Of a Pure Heart,a Knight and the OneWinged Angels
by Flipperclaws
Summary: After the tumultuous events of Final Fantasy VII, Sephiroth is revived, and his new purpose in life is to atone for his many sins. However, he will not be alone – Aeris has returned as well, to become… his guardian angel!
1. Chapter 1: Knowing Me, Knowing You

****

OF A PURE HEART, A FALLEN KNIGHT AND THE ONE – WINGED ANGELS

__

------------------------------------------- Disclaimer: ---------------------------------------------

To the Reader and the Lawyers:

Final Fantasy VII, and all the characters, including Aeris and Sephiroth, are property of Square Enix Co, formerly Squaresoft LLC. Tell me if my disclaimer ain't good enough.

****

To other Fanfic Writers (This is more important!) Plagiarism Note:

There are a lot of Aeriseph fanfics around here. I've tried my best to stay as original as possible, but it's a bit hard to write this type of story without treading on someone's toes by accident along the line. Please, if you feel that I may have 'borrowed' some of your concepts or ideas by mistake, notify me immediately. **Email** a "cease and desist" message to me, point out where I have gone wrong, and I will act immediately to remove or modify the offending section(s). Thank you very, very much for your understanding and tolerance. 

OK, enough of this @#*%&^ already, on with the story!

--------------------------------------- End of Disclaimer: ---------------------------------------

__

KNOWING ME, KNOWING YOU

It was done.

Holy was moving at last. A stream of pure white magic flew towards Midgar, where the Meteor was falling. The power of the Planet turned into a web of energy, cushioning the impact of the world killer, keeping it from touching the surface of the earth. 

But that was not enough. Her friends had managed to defeat Sephiroth, whose iron will had kept Holy at bay, but it was already too late to arrest the fall of the giant comet, and all would be lost soon.

But she knew that it wouldn't be over, not just yet. There was still something she could do, even though she was no longer with them. She had to protect her friends. She bowed her head, closed her eyes and prayed, desperately asking the Planet for one final favour.

Her prayers were answered instantaneously as the Lifestream itself erupted from every place on the world, the spirit energy that was the essence of life gathering, bit by bit, strand by strand towards Midgar. Some of the energy beams went towards strengthening the barrier, keeping the Meteor from doing any more damage to the already ravaged Planet, while even more engulfed the oversized comet, penetrating into its very core, disintegrating it bit by bit. Still more of the Lifestream came until the very life of the Planet was concentrated in that one place in the sky. The Meteor was held in check, and the skin of the juggernaut began to bulge uncontrollably as it absorbed more and more of the green energy. And with one blinding burst of light, Meteor was gone in a titanic explosion that shook the world.

At last she raised her head and smiled. They were safe now. And even as the last vestigial fragments of rock showered the surface of the world, she saw a brilliant cone of light appear before her. She was being asked to return to the Planet, and she knew she had to say goodbye.

She sighed, and turned towards each of her friends in turn, fixing their wonderful features in her mind one last time before she had to leave. She had wanted to be with them, taking part in more adventures, going on more dates and plays, exploring the world… but she had to put her own wants before the needs of the Planet. But she had not regretted it for a moment, as the sight of her companions being safe and sound made her contented enough. 

She looked at the young man with spiky blond hair last and longest. She had adored the former mercenary, admiring his courage and his inner strength, falling in love with him at first sight. Had she been in another world, had she been living in more peaceful times, she might have married him, and they would have had a wonderful life together. But his destiny lay on a different path from hers, and they had no choice but to go their separate ways. He would be fine, as Tifa would be at his side forever, and they loved each other, even though they wouldn't admit it yet. She sighed, biting back tears. Of all of them, she would miss Cloud Strife the most.

The light brightened, and the Planet called to her again, patiently asking her prodigal daughter to return. She could have gone to the Promised Land the moment she died, but she had put it off, wanting to watch her friends from the Lifestream, hoping to be with them in spirit even though she could not meet them, hoping to be of aid to them one day. Her efforts had paid off, now that the Meteor was gone. However, she could not refuse the Planet's summons to enter paradise forever. But as she turned her gaze from the saviors of the world to the light, she could not help but feel sad for them, and guilty that she would enjoy eternal life, but not them. While the Cetra passed into the Promised Land at the end of their lives, the humans were doomed to be reincarnated over and over again, to feel more suffering and pain as part of the endless cycle of life and death. But she could do nothing about it, except treasure their memories forever in her heart.

__

I I'll miss you, Cloud, my bodyguard. I'm sorry I couldn't come back… I

The Planet called one last time, and this time Aeris did not resist, and she soared upwards into the afterlife. 

__

A/N: Oh, poor, poor Aeris… (sniff) 

Note that because of the way she is portrayed in the ending FMV (she appears in the Lifestream), some people may say that the Lifestream is_ the Promised Land after all. _

In the game, it is mentioned that there was something keeping Aeris from returning to the Planet. Since she had deep links to Avalanche, and Cloud particularly, I thought that she'd probably try to stick around and help out a little.

Sigh… I wish the ending of FF7 was more clear – cut; it wouldn't hurt to find out what exactly_ happens to our dearest flower girl after all=) _

Oh, and BTW, I'm an ABBA fan, and you'll see similarly titled – chapters soon… 


	2. Chapter 2: The Bane of the EDK

__

------------------------------------------- Disclaimer: ---------------------------------------------

To the Reader and the Lawyers:

Final Fantasy VII, and all the characters, including Aeris and Sephiroth, are property of Square Enix Co, formerly Squaresoft LLC. Tell me if my disclaimer ain't good enough.

****

To other Fanfic Writers (This is more important!) Plagiarism Note:

There are a lot of Aeriseph fanfics around here. I've tried my best to stay as original as possible, but it's a bit hard to write this type of story without treading on someone's toes by accident along the line. Please, if you feel that I may have 'borrowed' some of your concepts or ideas by mistake, notify me immediately. **Email** a "cease and desist" message to me, point out where I have gone wrong, and I will act immediately to remove or modify the offending section(s). Thank you very, very much for your understanding and tolerance. 

OK, enough of this @#*%&^ already, on with the story!

--------------------------------------- End of Disclaimer: ---------------------------------------

THE BANE OF THE E.D.K.

Tifa and Cloud sat down in the open – air amphitheatre of Event Square, waiting for the play to begin. The Evil Dragon King Valvados starred again as the prime antagonist, but the program flyers had promised a new twist to the story.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the announcer blared out, "Let the play begin!"

The narrator began the story. 

"Once upon a time, on a Planet far, far, away, there was once a legendary hero called Sir Alfred."

A man dressed in plastic plates painted a cheap silver colour shambled out of the wings, making clanking noises as he did. He was short and stocky, and it was a wonder that he could walk with all the weird accoutrements the Gold Saucer staff had given him. Cloud wanted for a moment to snicker. That character reminded him of a video game he'd played once in the 7th Heaven Bar while waiting for a mission to assault a Mako Reactor long ago…

"Sir Alfred was the champion of the land, defeating evil monsters left and right, preserving the safety of the kingdom he was sworn to defend."

The faux knight drew a wooden sword (also painted silver) and started whacking some extras dressed in Shinra uniforms. Cloud smiled. Until a year or two ago, he had been one of those small fry…

"But one day he had a dream. He didn't want to become a knight anymore. He wanted to rule the world. He rose up and slew his king, and anyone who dared to oppose him."

It was hard to imagine a flunky like that actor being an evil man, killing equally dowdy – dressed players on the stage, but that contributed to the overall comedic effect. 

"Until one day the gods themselves were angered with his evil deeds and cursed him to become a hideous monster for all eternity. He became the Evil Dragon King Valvados."

It was indeed very fortunate that the clanking knight was struck down by a short burst of confetti from above, otherwise everyone in Event Square would have died of laughter by now. The stage darkened for a second for the actor to remove himself, and when he was gone, the familiar green canvas tarpaulin that served as the villain of the story had appeared.

"But still Valvados hungered for power. He enslaved many nations, and killed many innocents in the process."

It was then that Cloud's smirk vanished and his eyes glazed over. The evil dragon king had appeared behind a girl dressed as a nun, kneeling in prayer. Valvados laughed like an old crone who hadn't put on her false teeth, devouring his 'victim' heartily, uttering the words "Delicious! Yummy!" to the extreme delight of the audience. 

But Cloud closed his eyes, not wanting to take that apparently humorous scene in. And he saw again the black – cloaked man appear behind the poor defenceless girl, driving the sword through her back. She died instantly, and the villain had callously kicked her off his blade, guffawing like the insane man he had been. If there was one memory in particular he could ever erase or forget, it would have been that horrid moment when Innocence herself was murdered.

"Cloud…" Tifa had noticed his change in mood, seeing the tears form in the bluish – green eyes, "Are you thinking about her?"

The ex – SOLDIER nodded, swallowing his salty tears. 

"We all lost someone dear to him," he whispered, "Our town, our parents… even Aeris." He remembered the cheerful, giggly girl who never lost her sense of humour and wonder no matter how hard things went. She had been the one who had asked him to open up. She had literally dragged him along on a date, begging him to take part in this play. She was always full of the mysteries of life, and she had been braver and more unselfish than anyone else he'd ever met. 

Of all of them, the Ancient had been the least deserving of death, yet she had been the only one of their number to perish. She had saved them all by finding the secret weapon to defeat Sephiroth, but she had paid the ultimate price for using the White Materia. She now belonged to heaven, and the stars would spell out her name, but they would never forget the Rose of Midgar. 

Turning towards Tifa, fixing his gaze on her, he took a deep breath and tried to continue.

"Tifa… I love you. Her death has made me treasure what's important in life, to seize it before it leaves us completely. She always said that she would come back after this was all over, and I thought I had time to come clean about my feelings to her, and now that she's gone… I don't want to lose you too." His tears ran down his blue sleeveless shirt. 

Tifa grasped his hand firmly and warmly. 

"What else could go wrong now? Sephiroth's dead, Meteor's gone, Aeris has passed into the Promised Land. She's happy now, and I'm sure she wants us to be happy too. Come on, we're missing the play!" She smiled, gesturing to the stage.

"The people were bowed with sadness and they could only dream of the day when there would be peace and happiness in their once proud world. Until a wise man came forward with the way to stop the monster."

An aged old wizard in grey robes, torn and darned with multicoloured patches stepped up.

"The Evil Dragon King Valvados has but one weakness… he is vulnerable to the power of true love. Only a pure hearted and virtuous maiden who promises to be together with him forever will be able to break his curse and return him to the valiant knight he once was."

"The call went high and low, but no one was willing to face the dragon or courageous enough to stay with the monster forever. Until the time when a fair princess known as Rosa came along."

A pretty girl with raven hair stepped onto the stage, proclaiming bravely, "I will go alone into the dragon's lair if no one else shall."

This was not the Princess Rosa he had known and loved and would mourn for forever. But there was already another princess at his side, and he was content. 

__

A/N: So, without our dear Aeris around, guess who Cloudy – Woudy runs off with! If the title has not given it away by now, this play will foreshadow events to come…

Hey, remember Candle in the Wind 1997_? Thought it would apply very nicely to Aeris here, wonder why no one has modified the lyrics yet to suit her in a songfic._


	3. Chapter 3: Aeris in Wonderland

__

------------------------------------------- Disclaimer: ---------------------------------------------

To the Reader and the Lawyers:

Final Fantasy VII, and all the characters, including Aeris and Sephiroth, are property of Square Enix Co, formerly Squaresoft LLC. Tell me if my disclaimer ain't good enough.

****

To other Fanfic Writers (This is more important!) Plagiarism Note:

There are a lot of Aeriseph fanfics around here. I've tried my best to stay as original as possible, but it's a bit hard to write this type of story without treading on someone's toes by accident along the line. Please, if you feel that I may have 'borrowed' some of your concepts or ideas by mistake, notify me immediately. **Email** a "cease and desist" message to me, point out where I have gone wrong, and I will act immediately to remove or modify the offending section(s). Thank you very, very much for your understanding and tolerance. 

OK, enough of this @#*%&^ already, on with the story!

--------------------------------------- End of Disclaimer: ---------------------------------------

AERIS IN WONDERLAND

The majestic light faded, and Aeris found herself in a field of flowers. The garden spread out for acres in all directions, further than the eye could see. Every single type of flower she had ever known in her short life, and many more, was growing in that field, even those that thrived only in the warmest or coldest climates. She bent down, picking a small flower with white wooly leaves, a cluster of yellow buds in the centre. The fragrance of that bloom was intoxicating, making her want to dance around and sing out with joy. A light breeze blew, but unlike the biting chill winds of the Midgar slums, it was warm and refreshing, sending an entire cloud of petals and pollen into the air. She smiled, taking one small blossom in her hand, watching it fly again out of reach. She felt totally relaxed and thrilled at the same time. She lay down on the grass – covered ground, the green carpet more comfortable that the softest bed she had ever slept on.

And the fauna that inhabited this wondrous place was no less exquisite. She saw of all creatures – a sheep sailing in the clear blue skies, adorned with huge butterfly wings, bleating happily. Strange pink rabbits hopped around in the field, and she could not resist patting one of them. Like a dog, the little bunny licked her knuckles, and Aeris could not resist giggling at this cute sight. Chocobo – like creatures the size of a cat warked softly, and a flock of rainbow – coloured doves fluttered overhead. 

She was drowning with complete pleasure and satisfaction. This was indeed the Promised Land, the haven of blessed release her mother had always promised that she would see once her life was over. Before she had died at the train station sixteen years ago, she had told Aeris not to grieve, for she would be going to a far happier place, and she would meet her daughter again someday here. 

She was suddenly aware of someone behind her, but she turned slowly, as there would surely be no monsters or villains in paradise. 

She saw a couple sitting down on a long checked cloth, a picnic basket beside them. The man was reading from a thick book written in an unrecognisable script, while the woman was lying down in his lap, whispering sweet nothings to him. He raised his head to look at her. His unruly mop of black hair, his huge round glasses and his thick moustache made him look slightly comical, especially since he was barely in his mid – twenties, and already he was trying to look fifty years older than he was. His mouth dropped open upon seeing her, and for a moment he could not speak.

Aeris came forward, noticing the look of shocked surprise on his face. 

"Is there something wrong? Do I resemble someone?" she asked, wondering why the man was looking at her like that.

The young woman got up, and Aeris thought that she had looked into a mirror. The woman's hair, like hers, was chestnut – brown, but far longer. While the flower girl's braid only reached her hips, the lady's curls and tresses, which were unbound, spilling all over her back, were long enough to touch her feet. The woman's eyes too were a shade of deepest green, giving her the impression that she was looking into the Lifestream itself. To complete the picture, two long cowlick bangs framed her face on both sides, the ends barely touching her cheeks. 

Aeris broke out into a run, embracing the woman with all her strength.

"MOTHER!" She screamed.

"My daughter," Ifalna began, her face shining with tears, "I knew you'd come back to me someday. It's about time!"

"She's grown so much… and she looks exactly like you," the man remarked, reaching for a handkerchief, sniffling noisily.

"Aeris… meet Professor Gast, your father."

She broke off from her mother's embrace, hugging her father now. 

"Father… I'm sorry I didn't notice you earlier… I'm so glad to meet you, but… this is so unexpected… I didn't think you'd be here too to welcome me…"

She had seen Avalanche enter the Professor's house in Icicle Inn, watching the video interviews between Ifalna and himself, but the man featured in the tapes was far older. Then, he had been a man over forty years old, and that was why she didn't recognise him earlier. Perhaps that was one more wondrous quality of the Promised Land. But her father was a human being, and he couldn't possibly be here…

The Professor smiled, his electric blue eyes twinkling. "Aeris, the Cetra call this place the Promised Land. The rest of us simply call it 'Heaven'. Don't worry about your friends. So long as they continue to be men and women of virtue, and protect the Planet with their lives, they will join us here someday. You need only wait…

"Oh, goodness knows how long we've waited for you. We could never enjoy this life knowing that you were still suffering down there… we were your parents, yet we couldn't do a thing to help you out. But oh, thank God it's all over now!" Gast could not control his joy and he blew his nose again, the tears running down his glasses.

Ifalna looked over her daughter, shaking her head. "You're so thin, Aeris. You haven't being eating well, have you?" she asked.

Aeris shook her head. All the way to the City of the Ancients she had journeyed alone, ignoring the need for food and sleep, the fear that she wouldn't be able to summon Holy in time driving her along at a furious pace, allowing her to make it there long before her friends. 

After several weeks of frantic journeying, she had arrived at the ancient city a physical and nervous wreck, every muscle screaming for rest, the pain of hunger gnawing away at her will every minute. She had not been in good shape at the start of her mission, and she had been attacked many times along the way by monsters, suffering several injuries. She had managed to heal them, but using her powers had drained almost all of what meagre strength she had. 

Aeris had not known how she had managed to find her way to the water altar, but in her famished and exhausted state, she had slipped easily into the deep trance that had allowed her to warn the Planet of the impending disaster. Mercifully, she had been so weak by the time Sephiroth had stabbed her that she had slipped painlessly into death within seconds. She wondered exactly how she looked like now, but she guessed it wasn't a pleasant sight. 

The Professor motioned for the flower girl to sit down on the picnic mat, and she gratefully accepted his offer. He opened the basket, taking out a thermos flask and a large china mug. He filled the cup with what appeared to be some fruit punch, and passed it to her. 

"Even though we don't need to eat or drink anymore, your mother still insists on making me have three proper meals a day," Gast quipped, smiling at Ifalna, "But there's really no excuse why I shouldn't. Drink it, it's delicious."

Aeris looked at the mug in her hands for just a moment. It looked exactly… like fruit punch, but the wind blew again, and she picked up the wonderful aroma wafting from the beverage. She did not know how her mother had managed to squeeze so many delicious things into that one cup of pure goodness. The heady scent of cinnamon, the sharp and sour tang of lemon, the juicy sweetness of glace cherries and the cloying yet irresistible fragrance of rose syrup were but only a few of the delectable delights that made her head swim.

She took a small, tentative sip and all her senses were immediately overwhelmed and satisfied at the same time. The drink tasted many, many times better than it had smelled. She felt as if she was drinking from a river of warm life itself, the tasty liquid sliding down her throat, smoother than water. The fruity fragrance assaulted her again with a playful vengeance, and she could smell and taste nothing except those succulent treats from the earth. 

Warmth was now spreading rapidly throughout every fibre of her being, starting from the tips of her toes, going straight up to the roots of her hair. Her cheeks tingled, and her ears burned. Aeris had never taken alcohol before, but she knew immediately that she was enjoying the very same sensation that made people go over the moon. Now she understood why Cloud and her friends would go to the bar whenever they entered a town. Even professional killers like Tseng and the Turks would celebrate their victories and their continued survival over a frosty mug, and she wistfully recalled the time when they had refused to fight Avalanche because they were on holiday and wanted only to finish their drinks in peace. 

It had only been less than a mouthful she had partaken of, but she felt as if she had eaten enough to sustain her for an entire year. She was instantly refreshed and rejuvenated, as if she had just taken a megalixir. But even that miraculous potion was only able to heal a person's wounds, not fill one's stomach. She felt extremely contented and relaxed, as if she had just finished a feast meant for a queen. Aeris could literally feel her cheeks filling out, the dark ringed eyebags caused by lack of sleep quickly receding, her thin and wasted limbs regaining strength. Another gust of wind blew, tossing her braids in front of her, and she saw that her hair, rough, ruffled and full of split ends and snarls, had become silky and glossy and vibrant, looking exactly like the lovely locks the models advertising hair care products on television always boasted about. 

Ifalna smiled as she saw the years disappear from her daughter. Aeris had merely been twenty – two years old, but she had gone through a lot during her journey with Avalanche, and while her foster mother and her friends had done everything to make sure that she had been well taken care of, she had been subjected to trials and made to endure agonies that no parent would ever want their child to undergo. The young Ancient had succeeded beyond all imagining, but the stress had taken its toll on her. She had been forced to grow up far before her time. At last Aeris appeared like what she had always supposed to have been had she only been given another chance and a better life; she was now an extraordinarily beautiful girl who had just reached her sweet sixteenth year. 

She watched with amusement as Aeris slowly finished her drink, savouring every last drop, her large, sea – green eyes dancing with pleasure, her cheeks rosy and supple, glowing with delight. Finally she was able to give her long – lost daughter the happiness she had never enjoyed.

She stood up, wrapping her arm around her husband's waist. 

"Come, let us show you where we live."

And Aeris placed her hands over her mouth, gawking with pure wonder and excitement as she saw two large, white – feathered wings emerge from her mother's back. Was there no end to the wonders of the Promised Land? But still Ifalna smiled gently, placing her free hand on the younger Cetra's shoulder. Unable to contain her feelings any longer, Aeris whooped with joy as she saw one angel wing sprout from her left shoulder, flapping gently in the breeze. She turned to her other side, but there was no wing. The look on her face changed to one of dismay and puzzlement.

Ifalna tried to stifle a laugh. "Oh, I'm sorry, dear," she began to explain, "That's because you're a half Cetra, but don't worry, you'll be able to fly very well even with one wing."

She began to rise above the ground, clutching the Professor tightly. 

"Let us go, my dear."

Not knowing what to do next, Aeris did the only thing that she could possibly think of – she jumped, and immediately she was floating above the field, lighter than air itself. She was giggling all the way as she did somersaults in the sky, gliding in every direction, shooting from one place to the next as quickly as a star. She had always bugged Cloud to take her on a ride in the Highwind, hoping to see the world from high, high above, to take in its magnificence all at once, and now her wish to take to the skies had come true. 

She followed Ifalna, soaring higher and higher still, until the never – ending garden became one gigantic multicoloured green starscape beneath her. And before her eyes was the most wondrous city she had ever seen. Many times larger than Midgar, the capital of the Planet, the city was filled with millions of large, well – spaced houses, each with its own garden, each as large as a mansion. Many castles, every stone made of gold, silver, platinum and other precious metals, floated slowly on clouds. She saw huge and ancient mountains, deep gorges and large lakes, waterfalls of pure Mako, all brimming with life. Such finery was unknown even to the richest of the rich who believed that they had everything they wanted in life, dwelling in the Upper Plate of Midgar. Even President Shinra, the wealthiest man on the Planet, would have given his soul to even stay in the lowliest hovel here (but there were none to speak of).

The endless streets, plazas and boulevards were crowded with an uncountable number of people. She saw a few winged angels whom she knew were the spirits of the Cetra. There were many more inhabitants without wings, human beings who had done enough good in their lives to transcend the cycle of reincarnation to be invited to the Promised Land. Throughout most of her life, she had seen only the poverty and deprivation of the run – down slums of Midgar, and it gladdened her heart to know that she and her friends would be living here forever one day in paradise. 

"Behold, Aeris, your new home."

The Cetra girl smiled beatifically, delirious with absolute felicity. She was truly living in wonderland now. 

__

A/N: Ha ha ha ha. 

Don't you like the famous "flower field" scene that appears in every Aeriseph fic? 

So, this is my take on what Heaven is like, though I'd think that I'm bad enough to go to Hell instead (see the next chapter!) Don't you love teary reunion scenes? Which probably shows how sad a person I am.

__

Hmm… what do you think of Aeris_ as a one – winged angel… mwahahahaha!_


	4. Chapter 4: Dawn of Truth

__

------------------------------------------- Disclaimer: ---------------------------------------------

To the Reader and the Lawyers:

Final Fantasy VII, and all the characters, including Aeris and Sephiroth, are property of Square Enix Co, formerly Squaresoft LLC. Tell me if my disclaimer ain't good enough.

To other Fanfic Writers (This is more important!) Plagiarism Note:

There are a lot of Aeriseph fanfics around here. I've tried my best to stay as original as possible, but it's a bit hard to write this type of story without treading on someone's toes by accident along the line. Please, if you feel that I may have 'borrowed' some of your concepts or ideas by mistake, notify me immediately. Email a "cease and desist" message to me, point out where I have gone wrong, and I will act immediately to remove or modify the offending section(s). Thank you very, very much for your understanding and tolerance. 

OK, enough of this @#*%&^ already, on with the story!

--------------------------------------- End of Disclaimer: ---------------------------------------

DAWN OF TRUTH

He opened his eyes slowly, and he found that he was immersed in a sea of pure green energy. No matter where he walked, he would see nothing but the mysterious green haze. No matter where he turned his head, he could see nothing but the same green monotony everywhere. His hands and feet cut through nothingness, the green specks and sparkles evading his grasp. He tried to draw breath. His lungs screamed for air, but only vacuum filled his ailing lungs. His ears rang, crying out loud to hear something, anything but the sound of silence.

__

Mother, help me! Help me, help me, help me please!

But Jenova, his mother, could not hear or help him. She was dead, defeated by the villain called Strife, the weakling, the failed experiment! She had shown him the way to glory, the powers of his true heritage as a Cetra, and had exhorted him to summon the Meteor to destroy all the usurpers who had stolen the Planet from her.

Now he agonised over the horrifying turn events had taken. He had seen the girl who called herself a Cetra many times. She was beautiful indeed, looking nothing like his mother, but she had told him that the innocent – looking thing was but a wolf in sheep's clothing, another human with the gall and the artifice to put on the guise of his race. Mother had told him to terminate that imposter with extreme prejudice, and he had done so gladly. A single stab with the blade, and the pitiful whelp had died without even a whimper. How hard he had laughed when he saw that Strife weeping over that dead rotting animal, that mere cut of meat! But what had happened? That lowly pretender had succeeded beyond her wildest imagination, keeping the world forever in the thrall of the betrayers, the destroyers! Oh, how he wished he could strike her again, mar that pretty smiling face, strip the soft flesh from her brittle bones, make her suffer for the unending injustice and disgrace she had caused him and his race! 

But how could it be? What had happened to her promises? Jenova had promised him eternal life as a god, as the true descendant of the Cetra, that he alone was truly invulnerable. He had sneered when Strife had come into the core of the crater seeking revenge for his lost lover. He had not resisted, thinking that the failed experiment's pitiful attempts would be for nothing. But he could not believe it when he felt himself pierced over and over again by that murderous weapon, when he saw the blood run into his eyes, flood his mouth, gush down from his nostrils. All of the abilities his mother had bestowed onto him could not protect him from being killed, from dying in abject humiliation on that fool's sword! Jenova's power had failed him! He had never been divine… he was only… a human being.

Jenova had said that he was heir to power beyond imagination. But that frail little thing, even he had struck her down, had become more powerful than he could have possibly imagined. She, of all creatures, had been able to speak to the Planet, perverting its powers to summon the bane of the Black Materia. But he had not given up even when he had seen the telltale green glow from the jewel in her hair, the silent knell that spelt doom for his plans. For a moment he had rejoiced when Meteor, the fire of righteous indignation, prevailed over the profane white magic of Holy. But then that brainless girl had called on the Planet again, using the Lifestream, the ethereal walls that now made up that selfsame prison he was stuck in, to destroy the instrument of vengeance, the means by which he would have gained power enough to transcend all existence and rule the world unopposed by those ignorant insects! How did that lowly pretender gain access to the source of ultimate power? He could not even listen to the Planet, let alone ask it for help, but she had been given the birthright of the Cetra, the inheritance that he, as the last survivor of the Ancients, was supposed to have… unless she was _the_ Cetra… and he had been deceived?

He had seen the girl abide in the Lifestream, and he had thought that _she _was the one being punished! But she was already long gone, flying up into a cone of light that led to what _she _called 'the Promised Land', escaping the prison. That horrid smile on her face, that mask of boundless contentment and gratification filled him with fury. But Jenova had always told him that the Northern Crater was where he would gain supreme power, where he would live forever, _his _Promised Land! Now he was lying in the limbo of deepest space. Now he himself had been cast into the most horrible dungeon ever conceived, an eternal prison from which there would be no escape. How ironic, how unfair! He could not believe that he was dead! He should have been an all – powerful being, the last Cetra! He could not believe that this sinful, airheaded wretch had been allowed to seek eternal peace, and not him! Could it be all wrong then? Was Jenova really nothing but the "Crisis From the Sky" he had heard so many times before? Was Jenova really the monster who had destroyed the Cetra, and not humankind as he had believed all along? Was he only dreaming now? 

Was Jenova really his mother?

__

"Then… this being called Jenova… isn't she one of the Cetra too?"

The lady blanched, her eyes widening with fear, her slender fingers trembling at the mention of Jenova's name. 

"No, Professor, no… you are horribly mistaken. She is not one of us… she is what we call… "The Crisis from the Sky…"

The gentleman was silent for several moments. He turned to look at the boy, his face tinged with regret, and then he sat down heavily in the chair, his hands covering his face.

"Oh my God… what have I done?" He whispered tearfully, "Sephy…"

What was he thinking of now? His mind was saturated with denial, and no doubt his feverish psyche was desperately trying to find a way to rationalise the situation, to stay his thoughts that were flying apart even now…

This is a lie! A BLOODY LIE! 

Or was it? He had heard that conversation many, many years ago, and only now did he remember it… It could not have possibly been a lie… he had witnessed it himself… and those two people were the only ones on the Planet he had always trusted implicitly. They wouldn't have lied to him. They had no reason to do so, not especially since he had only been a boy then… 

Why had the kindly old man looked at him like that? What was wrong? What was wrong with him? Why did the gentleman have to die without telling him the truth?

__

The Professor shuddered uncontrollably, a paroxysm of pleasure taking control of his bodily movements.

"Ah… that woman would be so proud to see that her son has grown so well… heh heh… too bad she won't be around to see you now… your mother was so pretty… and she liked me so much…"

The SOLDIER trainee glared at the scientist, his green eyes hardening, the Mako in them making them appear as if they were on fire.

"Her name. Give me her name, Hojo."

"Oh… her name… Her real name, you mean… remember it well… it is Jenova… Jenova, Jenova, Jenova! Jenova! Jenova! JENOVA!!!"

The Professor frothed at the mouth, and he began to breathe quickly and heavily, moaning harshly, drowned with a sense of ecstasy that was so strong and so profound that it seemed almost sexual in nature… 

The young man turned away, sniffing with disgust. It had been a pain talking to that crackpot, but at least he had a lead now, no matter how slender. He was one step closer to finding out the names of his true parents. 

Jenova… 

Even though he was loath to believe what Hojo had said, there was no one else who had ever said a thing about his mother, and he had grasped at anything that would give him the knowledge of his parentage, give him the identity he so craved. He had assumed that the madman was referring to Jenova as his mother, and from then on, he had thought daily about her, to the extent that it almost became an obsession. When he had read Professor Gast's notes in the Shinra Mansion, the scientist had referred to her as being a Cetra, preserved for two thousand years in a geological stratum, that the genes that had been extracted from her had been used to produce him, to give him life. He had read how humanity had ill – treated her, and from then on... he had embarked on this crusade to bring the world to justice. 

But Jenova had been dead for two thousand years… and even if she had been alive, she hadn't looked _pretty _at all, and she would never have loved a freak like Hojo. The mad scientist had referred to her as a _woman_, and from what he had learned, the Cetra looked like any other human beings. He too had looked like a human at least, and when he saw Jenova's twisted, misshapen form, he had thought that the villains that had imprisoned her had turned her into one of those poor creatures he had seen in the spawning pods in the Nibel reactor. But even as he thought back to that fateful day, even as he remembered his mother's face, he became less and less certain of what he'd truly seen. 

Her face was _humanoid_ in appearance, but everything else, from her misshapen limbs, those long, suckered tentacles, her vestigial wings and her large elephantine feet were anything but human in nature. Even the Mako monsters, twisted beyond recognition by a supralethal dose of the Planet's energies, still retained some residual traces of humanity. Their appendages, formerly hands and legs, each still possessed five digits, and they had blackened claws that were definitely their fingernails and toenails. Through their shriveled, slate – grey forms, he could still see what was once a distinct skeletal structure, and their organs that still pulsed within with corrupted life. They were still human, no matter how they had been twisted by Hojo's horrific schemes. But Jenova… she had not possessed any trait that even remotely marked her as having once being a woman.

__

Am I really a human being then? I don't even look _like her…_

Had he really made such a horrible error of judgement? Had he let his burning desire to have someone to care for him, someone to guide his steps, someone to give him the happiness he had once had, the love only a mother could give, make him accept the first _thing _that he had seen as his real mother? If Gast was correct, the Jenova infusions had, in a sense, been used to produce _part _of him, but they had not been significant enough to give him _real _life. Despite all the genetic material from Jenova he had been given, he was still a human being. Then… who was the woman Hojo had been talking about, the woman who had given birth to him, the one whom he was supposed to search for all along… his _real _mother? 

__

"Auntie, can I have someone else to play with here? I'm bored." 

"Of course, Sephy… you've always been so lonely, always keeping to yourself, so we've decided that we want a little sister to keep you company. In fact, you're going to meet her very soon."

She smiled, patting her stomach gently, "And I'm sure you'll be nice to her, won't you?" 

He remembered how the woman had taken him out often, buying sweets and munchies for him, answering all his questions, pointing out everything of interest to him. Whenever he told her he was hungry, she would rush to the larder and give him everything he wanted. She had been there to chase off the other boys whenever they bullied him. She had wiped his tears and assured him that he would grow to be far stronger and better than them one day. At night, she had tucked him in nicely, singing a lullaby to him, giving him a hot water bottle and a teddy bear to make him sleep peacefully.

But Jenova… she had done nothing except give him commands like a general orders his subordinates, never giving him even a word of thanks in return. And when he had failed her, when Strife had thrown him into the core of the Mako reactor, she had spoken to him scornfully, warning him never to slip up again. She had not showered him with the love that he had come to expect from a mother. He had gone on because he wanted to love his mother, and wanted to fulfill her wishes, no matter what they were. And that stranger had treated him like her own son, loving him unconditionally, giving him everything without thought of return at all…

Was Jenova _really_ his mother? Would any mother treat her son like… another of those pitiful clones he had simply used and discarded? 

__

Has my whole life been a lie then? Was I laughing at that puppet only to see that I myself have been living in a dream too? That someone else has been controlling me all along?

He had awakened from his dream, and he fervently wished that he hadn't. He had been living, fighting, and dying… for that 'Crisis from the Sky', the very extraterrestrial being that wanted to destroy his own Planet! But he couldn't accept the horrible truth. He wanted to hide in a corner, cower in blissful ignorance, fearing the dawn that would turn the life he had known to ashes. 

__

She can't be my mother! It's impossible!

No… 

No, no, no! 

NOOOO!!!!

But no one would ever hear him wail or grind his teeth. 

He was in hell.

__

A/N: I would think that Sephiroth might not have gone mad had he only taken the time to think about what really happened. 

I am sorry, but a lot of writers depict Gast taking care of Sephy, and like it or not, it's a very useful idea for a story, as the good Professor is a link between Sephy and Aeris. Of course, you can expect the horror in his eyes when he realises that he's murdered his benefactor's daughter. I decided to use Ifalna here as a mother figure as a foil to Jenova. Sephiroth realises what true motherly love is like, and his faith in the tentacled freak (sorry Jenova fans!) is shaken. 

Again, some of you may dispute the functions of the Lifestream (the game never really goes into depth about it, but I would believe that the souls of the dead would enter it (in the form of spirit energy), and get reincarnated later when new life is formed. But for Sephy's case, he isn't allowed to be reincarnated… too bad. And for the purposes of this story, Aeris doesn't remain here, of course. Which makes me wonder what happens to the soul of someone when he's used up by a Mako reactor to power a lightbulb.

Oh, and sorry for the Aeris - bashing here. I myself love her, but this is probably what Sephy would be thinking now…

BTW… I love Star Wars too. See whether you can pick out the two quotes I've placed in this chapter…

To my reviewers (THANK YOU!) 

To Yokai Hansha: 

You are SO COOL! Thank you! I love the "Good Deeds of Sephiroth" fanfic! He is sooo cool here! The Sephiroth redemption concept, of Aeris going with him is so sweet, I could not resist! That's one humorous way to make Sephy redeem himself. Don't worry, Cloud will not die in my fic… even though Sephy will no doubt seek revenge on him… mwahahahaha!

About Cloud killing stuff… maybe for the next chapter, can you make Cloud kneel down and pray to the Planet to let Aeris return to him, and then Sephiroth slides down, and, urm, makes him do the Masamune cha - cha?. And of course, the ever happy mutated rats (this time enhanced with JENOVA cells) can have a choice portion of what's left…=)

Thanks again!

To CJP:

Your wish is granted! I hope you enjoy this chapter! For me, I really should seriously consider joining "Aeris Anonymous"… I have an unhealthy obsession with her too. I admit that the "Rose of Midgar" salutation is not completely original, but it certainly fits her appropriately. Oh well, I guess that if you think of something, perhaps someone else will also think of it… thanks for the rave reviews!


	5. Chapter 5: Reflections

__

------------------------------------------- Disclaimer: ---------------------------------------------

To the Reader and the Lawyers:

Final Fantasy VII, and all the characters, including Aeris and Sephiroth, are property of Square Enix Co, formerly Squaresoft LLC. Tell me if my disclaimer ain't good enough.

To other Fanfic Writers (This is more important!) Plagiarism Note:

There are a lot of Aeriseph fanfics around here. I've tried my best to stay as original as possible, but it's a bit hard to write this type of story without treading on someone's toes by accident along the line. Please, if you feel that I may have 'borrowed' some of your concepts or ideas by mistake, notify me immediately. Email a "cease and desist" message to me, point out where I have gone wrong, and I will act immediately to remove or modify the offending section(s). Thank you very, very much for your understanding and tolerance. 

OK, enough of this @#*%&^ already, on with the story!

--------------------------------------- End of Disclaimer: ---------------------------------------

REFLECTIONS 

Upon entering the city, virtually everyone living in the Promised Land had turned out to greet the one – winged angel, all eager to see the last survivor of the Cetra return at long last, the young girl who had saved the Planet from Meteor. She had been but a simple flower merchant from the poorest quarters of Midgar, and she had felt immensely uncomfortable with the fame and attention that had been thrusted upon her. She had asked them all several times to return home, trying to persuade them that she wasn't worthy of such a reception, but they had responded by mobbing her with greater intensity. Many children had come up to her, begging her for autographs and a photograph together. Some of the cheekier boys had sneaked up behind her, stealing her ribbon and snipping away locks of her hair as a keepsake of their beloved heroine. She had received invitations to dates and dinners and promises of undying love from many young men. She didn't have the heart to refuse them, and she had blushed and giggled her way out. 

Even here, the cycle of day and night still held, and after dusk, the Promised Land became a magic kingdom. The entire city became one giant living spirit, as complex and as beautiful as a rose, twinkling with whorls of every hue possible, every light bright but none blinding. The skies at night were perpetually clear, and she could see every constellation, every star and every other Planet out in the universe without difficulty, illuminating the world below far better than any streetlamp. And if one looked at the boundless garden below, they would see every flower glowing softly with the reflected light of the heavens, another starscape to rival the wonders high above.

No matter what time of day, she could hear every place she went to bustling with life and warmth, the very air echoing with every sound that was pleasing to the ear and soothing to the soul. When she was still in the mortal world, she could was able to hear the spirit of every Cetra who had ever existed calling out to her, but their voices were faded and indistinct. Now it was as if they were talking to her face to face, and she relished every last detail they had to share with her. From those kind people who were willing to impart their knowledge to her, and with the guidance of her mother and father, she had learned more about her heritage and the lore of her race that she should have been taught when she was still alive, if only her parents had survived long enough to do so. But there was no place for regrets in the Promised Land, and she was glad that she was finally able to understand more about her strangeness and the unusual abilities that had made even her closest friends worried and at times envious of her. 

She spent every day tending to the flowers in the garden, patiently and meticulously nurturing all the beautiful and exotic species of flora her parents had grown for her to enjoy. And the plants responded in kind, enjoying her very touch, revealing their closest secrets to her. She made the beds with pleasure, humming a tune as she danced with the broom, her smile spreading from ear to ear every time her mother praised her for making another fine dish for the family. Every night she spent in the study, wide – eyed with interest, listening attentively as her father told her bedtime stories of the Cetra and the Planet. 

Aeris did not know how long she had been living in paradise, but all she knew was that this wonderful life would go on forever like this, and her enjoyment would know no end. She was truly happy beyond all belief. 

Today, she was sitting alone by a large lake, swirling and bubbling endlessly with Mako energy, its depths infinite and unfathomable. Even in heaven, many of the inhabitants still had ties to the mortal world, and it was here that they could watch from a distance what was happening to those whom they had left behind on the Planet. She dipped her hands into the green waters, and in a moment she could see, on the surface of this water body, everything that was transpiring around her as if she was there in person.

__

Elmyra was standing in one room of her warm and comfortable house in Kalm. But she was feeling neither warm nor comfortable. The room she was in was bright and airy, and everything here, from the walls to the bedspread was in the light, creamy pink colour her adopted daughter had loved. Hanging on the walls, mounted on the mantelpiece and placed on the bedside table were photographs, portraits and snapshots – all belonging to her former charge, who had perished a long time ago. There was one of her in the playground at Sector 6, waving happily from the top of the old rickety slide, cheerful despite the suffering that went on around her. She saw another one, and this time the girl was with a youth with deep dark hair, sitting contentedly on the flowerbed in the old church. Her gaze arrived finally at the last photo that had ever been taken of her. She was standing behind someone, silhouetted by the fireworks that burst silently in the background, and she was impishly pulling the cheeks of the moody golden – haired man into a forced smile. She had been happy, even to the very end.

She opened the wardrobe, looking at the assortment of clothes within. There was the sleeveless pink dress she was never seen without and the red denim half – jacket with metal cuffs she always wore to keep away the chill of the slums. There were only a few others within, including a red number with spaghetti straps, made of the finest shimmering silk, the one she had worn pretending to be a courtesan. All around the room were empty bottles, jars and vases, in which had once bloomed the only flowers to grace the lower plate of Midgar. They would never be filled now, and now her life would be similarly empty. She had never left Midgar before, and for every day and every moment after she had left the giant city, Elmyra had feared for the girl's safety. And when she saw the blonde man stepping in one night, his tears pattering onto the doorstep, unable even to break the news to her, she knew that she would never return home. 

"Aunt Elmyra… will the flower lady ever come back?"

She turned, looking at the child she was taking care of now. If not for the fact that she was responsible for Barret's little daughter, she would have taken her life already. She wanted so much to tell Marlene the truth, that her beloved friend was already dead, but how could she break her little heart just like that…

"Don't worry, she'll come home one day. You'll just have to wait for a little while longer, that's all…"

Now she was content only to wait for the day when she would see her dear girl again, once this life full of woe was over…

Two salty tears fell into the lake. The drops did not join with the mysterious waters, but floated on the surface, staying round and transparent, like unbreakable bubbles of air. But soon they sank, carrying with them the weight of the feelings that had given rise to them, and still they did not mix with the green pool, going to the depths as two immiscible drops of pure water. 

__

Cloud and Tifa were walking together, striding confidently down the path they had been destined to take. The young man, never caring much about fashion or tasteful clothing, appeared before her now like the proverbial prince from all the romance books she had ever read. He looked resplendent in a deep blue double – breasted jacket and well – starched pants, and his unruly sandy spikes for once were slick, shiny and well – styled. The woman at his side was a vision of immaculate radiance. Her long brownish – black hair was curled in a wonderful pattern of ringlets, flowing gracefully down her back in a lovely river of life. Her gown was a purest pearly white, almost glowing in the morning light that filtered down from every alcove. Unmitigated, unadulterated euphoria and bliss was written on their faces, and they looked as if they had, like her, just stepped into the Promised Land as well.

They turned, each looking the other straight in the eye, and recited the words of power that joined them in heaven's name. There was a flash of light as they were now irrevocably coupled together, and now a dazzling band of pure gold and diamond rested on their fingers. For one long moment they continued their unbroken gaze, and their eyes began to kindle with quiet fire as their passions, long restrained, long suppressed, came to the fore. At last they could bear it no longer, and they ran to each other, their lips meeting, never to let go forever…

A strange new feeling came over her. Why was it that Tifa was lucky enough to have Cloud as her husband, and not her! Cloud had loved her, and she had wanted to return to him once Holy had been summoned. She would have teased and coaxed the brooding mercenary into telling more about himself, for she had realised long ago that a sensitive young man was only waiting to break out from the walls he had created around himself, waiting only for that special someone to see through him. She knew she had been the one for him – even Cait Sith the hopeless fortuneteller had noticed the obvious. But because of one cruel twist of fate, she'd been denied her lover, and with her unfortunate demise, her handsome and gallant Sir Alfred had been handed over to her best friend and worst rival on a silver platter, without a fight! If she could have done so, she would have run up to the fore and demand that the wedding be stopped immediately! But she could do nothing now except watch the two of them enjoy life together, while she was stuck here alone, without a bodyguard or a boyfriend to love her! It was so unbearable, so unfair! 

And for the first time ever, the selfless and generous Aeris knew what it was like to be jealous and envious of someone.

Two tears fell again into the pond, but this time they were shed with bitterness. The lake steamed as those unyielding drops of living moisture unwillingly sank below, hard done by the fates.

She shook her head, unable to believe what she was experiencing now. Cloud had told her once that he had been "jealous and envious" of Zack for being able to get attached to someone like her, and she had merely laughed it off, thinking that he was merely saying that to milk some sympathy from her. But now she understood the depth of meaning beneath his words. Cloud had never been successful in his love life, and no doubt he must have, deep down inside, harboured some secret resentment for his best friend, even as she felt angry and sad with Tifa for taking her Cloud away… 

__

Pull yourself together, Aeris! What's happening to me? I should be happy for the two of them! They were meant to be together, even before I came! And Tifa… she welcomed me with open arms, even though I was the interloper, and she never got angry with me over Cloud! I don't deserve him after all… 

But then… has my life become a loveless play after all, ending with a bloody valentine and memories of what could have come true?

She sat there for a long time, trying to come to terms with herself. She knew that she was being impractical and unrealistic. Her life in the mortal world was long over, and there was no sense grieving over it. She had to move on and enjoy the eternal life she had been blessed with. Whenever things turned out wrong for her, she had always taken them in stride and with a smile, knowing that she'd be happy again once she turned the corner to face a new page in her life. But still, despite her best efforts, one tiny corner of her heart remained disconsolate and depressed. It seemed that even in the Promised Land, she was not free of her own emotions, and she would have to handle them with care.

Aeris was roused from her reverie by the footsteps of another person who was slowly walking up to the lake. She stood up, and quickly recognised the woman who was coming towards her. In the Promised Land, everyone she had seen had appeared contented and pleased. There had been absolutely no one whose face ever bore the slightest hint of sadness… except this demure, mousy – looking lady. Her complexion was fair and without blemishes, her shoulder – length black hair was tied behind in a severe ponytail and a large round pair of glasses sat firmly on her nose. But there was no mistaking the unshed tears that were always in those small brown eyes, and her chin shook apprehensively whenever someone looked at her. She was always staring at the ground, wandering around aimlessly. She never spoke to anyone at all, and she was known to sit at the lake every day, sighing to herself as if she was mourning for someone. Aeris was tempted to ask what was bothering her, but she looked so morose that any attempt to lure her into conversation would fail from the start.

The lady sat down at another corner of the pool, and the glowing waters began to form the images that she wanted so much to see, the sights that made her so sad. The flower girl turned and left immediately, not wanting to intrude upon her privacy.

*****

The lady bit her lip, steeling herself as she looked into the pool as she had done every day, looking into the lives of the two people who had ever mattered in her life. Even now she could not live with the fact that she could do nothing to help them make right the nightmares their lives had become. It was even worse because they had experienced so much misfortune, so much sadness not through their own faults… but because she had sinned.

One had been the mysterious and sorrowful man who had been forced to endure a lifetime of pain and regret due to her foolish actions. On one hand, he had tried to fulfill his duty as her protector to keep her safe so that the experiment would be completed. On the other hand, he had loved her, and he had wanted to spirit her away, keep her safe from the clutches of the monster that was trying to rape her, using her body as a living incubator for the perfect specimen. 

In the end, he had wanted to save her, but she had hesitated, and she had persuaded him to stay his hand, not wanting to break faith with the Professor she had feared with her life. And because of that the two of them had lingered in the darkness until it was too late, when the deed was done. The brave Turk, unable to see her suffer any more, had stepped into the Professor's lab, demanding answers… and demanding that he pay for what he had done to her. The mad scientist had captured him on that day, and Hojo had made the poor man undergo unspeakable torments daily as yet another test subject, perverting his body, turning him into another freakish experiment. And then he had been imprisoned for thirty years, forced every day to lament his indecision, his fatal flaw that had kept him on the sidelines watching her being tortured. He had been forced every day to mourn his lost love, forced every minute to believe that he was a failure, and would stay forever one.

But she had been so happy, and so proud of him, when she met him at the cave under the waterfall, when she found out that he had agreed to fight alongside Avalanche, to take his chances and find a way to redeem himself by devoting his life to protecting his newfound companions, making sure that they would never suffer the same fate he had. He had grieved for thirty years, and now he had finally mustered the courage and the strength of will to overcome his sorrows and weaknesses… to go on living.

Vincent Valentine had found himself at last, and he had been saved. Her lover was fighting every minute now, keeping his inner demons, his regrets and all his negative emotions at bay, fighting to keep her memory pristine and sacrosanct. 

Despite all the Mako infusions and the Jenova cells that had kept her strong, she had passed away not long after she had seen him. She had prayed many, many times for death, and the Planet had pitied her at long last, and had decided to order her release from this life. She had awakened in heaven. Even though she had not been worthy of mercy, her sins had been forgiven. This should have pleased her beyond all imagining, but why was she still so sad, still in tears then?

There had been only one other person she had cared for… but now, there was no hope for him, none at all, and while she, his mother, was in paradise, he was doomed to suffer forever a fate worse than death… 

That innocent child of hers, born from the love that she believed existed between herself and Hojo… but never had she thought that the Professor would betray her, telling her sweetly that her son would become his most important experiment, the magnum opus that would make him more famous than even Dr. Gast! And before she could open her mouth in protest, he had plunged the first needle into her unprotected womb, delivering the first dose of Jenova to corrupt his own son! From then on, she had meekly succumbed to the Professor's will, allowing more and more of the poison to torment her unborn child, turning him into a monster! She should have gone with Vincent, who had truly loved her, and run away before the Professor could destroy her son! Her timid, cowardly nature had made her commit this sin of omission. 

Sephiroth had grown up believing the lies told by Hojo. That Jenova, that alien, was the one who had given him life. He had been deprived of one of the most fundamental prerequisites to keep any man happy and sane – a mother's love. This was a vacuum he could not fill, and slowly, but surely, his resentment and anger with life grew. He became aloof, reticent and totally committed to the mission before him, for in combat he could forget the lack of care and love in his life. He could vent his rage on the enemies before him, for he knew that they had been loved and they had known what he had never had. Shinra had never sought to make him happy, but they had isolated him further, deriding and degrading him until he became their perfect soldier. She had known about all these. The Jenova cells had given her his dreams. And she had done nothing but stayed in that loathsome cave and cried over the way her beloved son was spiraling to his destruction. 

All hell had broken loose when he had found the manifestation of Jenova in the Nibel reactor, and there the horrid creature had taken advantage of his vulnerable and impressionable soul. She had lured him with empty promises, telling him to follow her wishes as his mother. He had wanted only to find someone to attach himself to, and he had willingly accepted her will. It was his greatest misfortune to have been manipulated by that monster. And from then on, he had been turned into a cold – blooded killer who had slain countless innocents for the glory of his 'mother' and the Cetra of whom he thought he had been one. 

She had wept when she saw him continue to ruin lives from the Northern Crater where he had hidden himself. He had used those black – cloaked men who had been luckless enough to have been injected with Jenova cells, taking their hearts and feelings away, turning them into soulless puppets, forcing them to do unspeakable acts of cruelty against their most honoured beliefs, and he had feasted heartily upon their life energies when they could do his bidding no more. The lowest point in his life came when he had ordered the most complete clone of himself, the only one of them that resembled him to the last gene, to put to death the pure hearted maiden who had put aside everything to aid the Planet in its most dire hour of need. And even after that he had compounded sin upon sin by summoning Meteor to bring destruction upon the Planet, killing those whom he falsely believed were harming his 'mother'. He had remained unrepentant to the bitter end, and now he would suffer forever, because she had stood by all the while, doing nothing to save him… 

Yes, she had been forgiven. But she could never forgive herself. She wanted only, above everything in the Promised Land, to save her son… and now even that was impossible… Oh, if only if it could be done! If only she could restore Sephiroth to the good man that he was supposed to have been from the start, she could surely rest in peace!

The waters of the pool began to stir, but not because she had used its powers. A series of multicoloured visions began to parade before her eyes, and for hours she stood transfixed, unable to move as she took in the full import of what she had been shown. And when the green lake finally fell silent, the tears in her eyes had dried, replaced by a faint glow. The light that had been kindled in her soul was dim, but nonetheless it _was_ a light. Again, the Planet had heard her desperate pleas, coming to her rescue, giving her a message. She was now filled with hope.

__

A/N: Here's my attempt to prevent Aeris from becoming the dreaded "Mary Sue" character. As you can see, she's not completely pure after all… she has her own problems too. Even in heaven, life may not be perfect…

I've been wondering myself whether Aeris knew that she'd die in the Forgotten Capital… especially since she was able to save the Planet even after her death. Did she know, then, that she was fated to die, so that she would be able to use the Lifestream? But then, if this were true, why did she promise Cloud that she'd come back, unless she meant that she'd be with him in spirit (like Obi - Wan Kanobi). In this story, I just assume that Aeris didn't know she would be killed. 

Hmm… I apologise if Lucrecia's recollections are too "generic". What I've written must have appeared in millions of Aeriseph fics=)

It's been a long while since I played the game, so I hope that my physical description of Lucrecia is accurate. Tell me if I'm wrong, and I'll modify the chapter to reflect the changes. Thanks!

Praise for the Reviewers:

To Starling94: Temper, temper… I can't write with an eight foot blade sticking out from my stomach, can I… =) (how long is Sephiroth's sword anyway?) 

Nice to see that you like it too! Aeris is my fave character, Sephiroth is my most hated villain. They say that a writer has succeeded in his character portrayal (of a villain, for example) when you really, really hate him. I can never forgive Sephy for killing Aeris, so, I will force him to make up to her in this story! MWAHAHAHAHA!

To Crow T R0bot : Thanks for the review! Let me know how you feel about it! Hope I can keep it up!


	6. Chapter 6: Take a Chance on Me

__

------------------------------------------- Disclaimer: ---------------------------------------------

To the Reader and the Lawyers:

Final Fantasy VII, and all the characters, including Aeris and Sephiroth, are property of Square Enix Co, formerly Squaresoft LLC. Tell me if my disclaimer ain't good enough.

To other Fanfic Writers (This is more important!) Plagiarism Note:

There are a lot of Aeriseph fanfics around here. I've tried my best to stay as original as possible, but it's a bit hard to write this type of story without treading on someone's toes by accident along the line. Please, if you feel that I may have 'borrowed' some of your concepts or ideas by mistake, notify me immediately. Email a "cease and desist" message to me, point out where I have gone wrong, and I will act immediately to remove or modify the offending section(s). Thank you very, very much for your understanding and tolerance. 

OK, enough of this @#*%&^ already, on with the story!

--------------------------------------- End of Disclaimer: ---------------------------------------

TAKE A CHANCE ON ME 

Aeris lay down in the garden, basking in the warm sunlight that caressed her cheeks, enjoying the cool breeze that teased her braids playfully. Her day's work was complete. Dinner was sitting patiently in the fridge, waiting for her parents to return from their outing. The flowers had all been well watered and pruned. It was time for her to relax. 

A slender romance novel lay at her side. Cloud had told her that only shallow and ditzy people were interested in those 'trashy' books, but he didn't know that everyone had a right to believe in fairytales. The plot of these novels were very similar – the girl and the guy would go through fire and water, to hell and back, just to see each other again (most of the time, at least). They would both suffer greatly, but they would soldier on, knowing that their significant other would be thinking of him or her even in their most hopeless hours. She could sympathise with them, having gone through the same, knowing that they would be confident enough eventually to try their best, and they would succeed in the end. However, it was there that the story of her life sped away from that tangent. In every book she had read, the girl had always gotten her Prince Charming in the end, and they would live happily ever after together. At least she could take comfort that someone else was able to enjoy the happiness she would never have. It didn't matter that those people weren't real at all, it just made her feel better. She would rather sleep with Don Corneo than admit it to anyone, but she secretly hoped that one day she could live out her fairytale, emerging triumphantly as one of the heroines in her books.

It was then that she saw the sad young lady walk up towards her. In the Promised Land there was no need for gates or fences or locks. Everyone trusted each other, and there was no need to covet each other's goods. But then, she thought, if Yuffie, by any chance, were to go to heaven, they would probably have to change the rules. 

But now, the woman didn't appear so sad now. Her tearful face was now set in determination, and she saw her eyes glitter, as if she'd found a new purpose in life. She stopped, and her mouth opened slowly as she paused to draw breath, for it was the first time she had spoken since she'd died…

"M… Miss… G – Gast?" she stuttered.

"Please call me Aeris. How may I address you?" The Ancient spoke softly and slowly, trying her best not to intimidate the lady.

"My… my name? I'm… I'm… Lucrecia."

Lucrecia. So this lady was the scientist that Vincent had loved… the unfortunate woman who had been Sephiroth's mother. It was unforgivable that she was unable to recognise even her own father, let alone the people who had played such an important role in shaping their quest…

The young woman stared at the ground, unwilling to meet her gaze. Her hands had begun to tremble again.

Aeris quickly took her by the arm.

"Come inside," she offered, flashing a reassuring smile at her, "I'm sure you have a lot to tell me, and maybe a cup of tea will make you feel better."

Lucrecia whimpered softly, but she allowed herself to be led into the house.

Aeris ushered her to the kitchen table, and when she saw that the lady was comfortably seated, she put the kettle on the boil, placing the teabags into the cups, taking the milk jug and the sliced lemons out of the fridge. Throughout her preparations, Lucrecia did nothing but stare at the patterned beech wood of the small round table, unable to accept such hospitality from this girl… 

The kettle whistled in a matter of minutes, and Lucrecia's vision suddenly became fogged as a steaming hot cup of tea was placed in front of her. The Cetra girl sat beside her, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"What bothers you, Lucrecia? I'm willing to hear you," Aeris began. The young scientist looked at the flower merchant, and saw nothing but concern in those sea – green eyes. She swallowed again, and began to blurt out her life's story.

Aeris had heard the sad tale of Vincent and Lucrecia's love before, but she listened attentively, letting her fading memories be refreshed. But when the woman began to talk about Sephiroth, and what he had done, she could not help but wince inwardly, and her hand unconsciously reached for her abdomen, remembering what had happened to her then…

But she quickly berated herself for thinking about her own misfortunes when she should be providing a sympathetic ear to this poor lady beside her. Her life, too, had not been a fairytale, and it had come to a tragic and tearjerking ending. And when Lucrecia had finished speaking, her head was bowed again, and the wooden table was damp with round water stains. 

Aeris took out a handkerchief, passing it to her. The scientist accepted it gratefully, and dabbed her eyes slowly. And when she laid the piece of cloth on the table, she found that the cup of tea had been pressed into her hands.

"You must have some tea, Lucrecia. It'll make you feel better." Still there was no hatred or regret in those eyes, only compassion and empathy. Perhaps she was indeed the fair maiden the Planet had pointed out to her in her vision…

She accepted the delicate china cup and sipped it slowly, feeling the warm liquid fill up her soul, giving her the strength to accomplish what she had come here for. She set it down, fixing her gaze on those soft, forgiving green eyes, getting ready to cut to the chase… and probably ruin whatever little civility that existed between the two of them.

"Aeris… I… I… must ask one… favour… of you…"

The flower girl's eyes widened in surprise, but she raised her hand, beckoning her to continue.

"Of course… please, what is it you need?"

"I… spoke to the Planet… she… told me that… there was a way to save him. That… he would have to be reborn… made to atone for his sins… that someone… someone special must… go back with him into the mortal world… to be his… guardian angel."

Aeris could see it coming, but she hoped that Lucrecia would not reveal the fate in store for her. The soft green eyes turned into two pieces of jade, and her face was now white and made of marble. The smile faded from her face.

"Aeris… will you… will you… go… with him?"

Aeris sat stunned, galled and appalled by the nature of the task Lucrecia was asking her to carry out, and she wished for once that she hadn't been so quick to let her speak. Perhaps it was a mistake trying to ask the mysterious lady to open up, for she'd taken the chance to unhinge Pandora's box in her face. She was asking her to take care of that devil! She knew full well that it was the silver haired villain that had killed her, and yet that scientist still had the audacity to ask her to be at that monster's side! No! She could never forgive him! She could never forget what he'd done to her! 

Her life had been so promising, so sweet, so rosy, but he had ended it all with one flick of his blade. She and Cloud loved each other, she could see the passion in his Mako eyes when he met her at the water altar, but that bastard absolutely, positively had to separate them, steal Sir Alfred from her! And now what had happened? Cloud was now married to Tifa, and she could do nothing but watch helplessly as she lost her lover just as Vincent and Lucrecia were helpless to see their love fall apart. Sephiroth deserved to die a thousand deaths! He deserved to rot in hell forever, for he'd ruined her life too, stripped it of the happy – ever – after ending it was supposed to have! If that was not bad enough, Lucrecia was adding insult to her injuries by wanting her to go back to this failed fantasy, to go back to this world to endure this never - ending disgrace. How could she ever bear to see Cloud again, especially in the arms of another woman? How could she face the world again, now that everyone knew that she was but an airheaded, ditzy bimbo who was an absolute failure when it came to love, having lost two of her boyfriends already! She wouldn't hear of it, no, never! She didn't want to help that horrible murderer! She didn't want to be alive again! That woman would never be able to understand _her pain, her sadness!_

"_Can I say no_?" She snapped, more vehemently than she'd wanted to, and instantly she bit her lip, the little angel in her head telling her that she'd made a terrible mistake. 

Lucrecia merely nodded, accepting her decision without comment. She knew that it had been a long shot, but it had to be tried. Aeris had been the one person whom her son had done the most wrong to, and one of the conditions that the Planet had placed upon Sephiroth's redemption was that this very same person must consent to go with him, and it would be his sacred duty to protect her and make up to her personally for the suffering he'd brought upon her. If even this gentle, innocent girl was unwilling to aid him, there was no hope for him at all. Every last iota of self – control she had fell apart as the light in her eyes flickered out. 

And even before Aeris could pull her flustered thoughts together and find some conciliatory words to repair the damage, she found the woman kneeling before her, gripping her bare feet, looking one last time at her. She saw, in those tearful, pleading eyes, nothing but sadness, desperation… and hopelessness.

"Aeris… I know that he has committed many sins… that he deserves to be imprisoned forever… but I know, I know in my heart that… he is a good man… if only someone could show him the light… I would go myself… but I am weak and sinful… I am not pure enough to be his guide. Please, my dear… I beseech you, please reconsider. No one, no matter what he has done, deserves to suffer like this… he did not what he was doing. He needs your help, and you are the only one who can save him now. Please… take a chance on him."

Lucrecia got up and hurried out through the door, not wanting the younger girl to see the tears that were streaming down her cheeks, not wanting to make her feel sorry for what she had done. 

Aeris rested her head on the table, pushing her bangs into her face, trying to conceal the tears of regret that were rushing in to fill the void left by her momentary fit of anger. She forced herself to drink her now cooling tea, trying to think the matter over slowly. The beverage, sweetened with milk and lemon, calmed her down, giving her pause to decide what to do next. 

Now, matters were worse. If she did not help Lucrecia, there would be surely no place left for her to go. She had always wanted to help anyone in need, no matter how much it cost her, but now, because of what she had done, because she had refused the last plaintive request of a sad, helpless woman, Lucrecia would be cursed forever to roam this wonderful place, never able to find peace in this existence. How could she step outside confidently with each brand new day, how could she walk around the streets happily, how could she go to the lake and share in the enjoyment of her friends' lives when this poor lady was walking around as a restless spirit, dejected and saddened… because of her? 

Even as Lucrecia was doomed to wander the Promised Land for all eternity, tormented forever by the loss of her son, she too would become a ghost like her, unable to be content with paradise because she had been selfish at the one moment when someone needed her most. She knew that she could not live with that either. She had to do something to help her, or she herself would not be able to rest in peace either.

Despite the fact that Sephiroth indeed needed to be punished for his sins, yet she did not doubt for a moment the veracity of his mother's claims. He had been at heart a man who had a deprived childhood. Where love should have been sown, Hojo and Shinra had placed stones within his heart, and he had become a fertile ground for anger and resentment to flourish. Sephiroth had no mother to take care of her, no friends to look after his welfare. Even in captivity, Ifalna had been at her side, reassuring her every moment, keeping her happy and giving her hope to continue with her life. And when she had died, Elmyra had stepped willingly into her shoes, and though she was not rich, and she was firm and strict, she had kept her stepdaughter on the straight and narrow. Who knows what she would have become had she not been loved during her early years? 

Indeed, Sephiroth had become a heartless monster, hate and vengeance filling in the void where there should have been charity and compassion. If someone could set this right, if someone was able to open the door to him, he would surely be able to redeem what little was left behind for him, and he would surely become… a fine man, like his mother. And even though she didn't want to do it, she knew in her gut that Lucrecia was right; she was the only one who could possibly make the attempt. Yes, even that murderer deserved another chance. It would be a horrific and degrading experience to have that monster chained to her, but… there was no other way. Just as there had been no other way out for her at that time except to journey to the City of the Ancients alone to pray for Holy. She might die again, but at least she would die in peace, knowing that she'd done what she could.

If she chose to go, she would be suffering every moment in the mortal world. Cloud would be very close to her, but so, so far away now that he was someone else's husband. She did not know how Sephiroth would behave towards her, but he would definitely be very hostile, especially after everything that had happened. But she would live only for less than fifty or sixty years perhaps, and she would return to the Promised Land. But for Lucrecia, she was already dead… and there was no escape for her… her sufferings would last forever. And forever was too long and too painful in comparison to the brief period of pinpricks she would be asked to endure. This decision would surely break her heart, but she had no choice but to go quietly, especially when another person's happiness lay in her hands.

Aeris sighed. 

__

Why do I have this sick feeling I'm going to regret this? 

She knew that her life would go along so much more smoothly if she could just stop thinking about everyone else for a moment, but she knew that it was impossible. To her, she would be happy only if she was able to keep everyone else happy. Asking her to be more self – centred would be akin to asking a sheep to eat meat – it would be anathema to her. She wouldn't be able to do it. It was simply in her nature to care for others, and to hell with what would happen to herself. 

__

A/N: I hope my description of the (typical) romance novel is accurate, but I get the impression that a lot of those books use that particular formula I've described above. To be frank, I've never read them, but I like writing sappy mushy scenes. I was wondering why people read romance books anyway, and here I set out one possible explanation. I would believe that Aeris had a bit of a deprived childhood (being an Ancient with strange powers and the ability to hear dead people doesn't make you exactly popular, and she spent much of her early life as a lab rat) and she seeks escapism in reading romances. Like any other young girl, she deserves to have a dream, and like a lot of young girls her age, she too dreams of meeting her Prince Charming, a handsome, honourable and gallant man. Let's face it, Aeris isn't perfect, and of course she would be a little reluctant to go with her former enemy (erm, he killed her, after all) and meet her ex, but she's still nice enough to help Lucrecia out. So please don't think so badly of her; but feel free to flame me if you think I've made her look too cheap in this chapter, I don't really care, to quote Cloud =)

Oh, and sorry if the plot is progressing so slowly. For those who crave a little action and / or fight scenes - please wait a little longer! You will be gratified soon. I guess that is just my style. 

To my Reviewers: THANK YOU!

To GuardianAlexio and Crow T R0bot: Thanks for the continued support! Yes, I hope I can keep it up!

To Starling94: Keep the reviews coming, and of course you'll be recognised! Keep thy sword at bay, alright? Gyahahaha!

To Firefly99: Whoa man, I didn't know you could make my writing such an experience! The only midi I listened to while writing this fic was Aeris' theme, it's so sweet, yet so tragic, yet so majestic. It's full of sadness… yet it's got a bit of joy in it. Thanks for the high praise - I'm getting as arrogant as Sephy - kins already. 

I myself am still ironing out some details as to exactly how Aeris and Sephy will get together - it has to be plausible, and it has to be done at its own pace. It's damned difficult, but I'll try my best. 


	7. Chapter 7: Voulez Vous

****

OF A PURE HEART, A FALLEN KNIGHT AND THE ONE – WINGED ANGELS

__

--------------------------------------------------------- Disclaimer: ---------------------------------------------------------------------

To the Reader and the Lawyers:

Final Fantasy VII, and all the characters, including Aeris and Sephiroth, Cloud, Tifa, Barret, Vincent, Yuffie, Red, Cid, Cait Sith (Reeve), Ifalna, Professor Gast, Lucrecia, Professor Hojo Frankenstein, Jenova the Mad, Rufus (any anyone I may have inadvertently missed out) are property of Square Enix Co, formerly Squaresoft LLC. Tell me if my disclaimer ain't good enough. I will reward you with a few thousand Chibi - Aeriths dosed to the nines with Hypers, and they shall hug you and squeeze you and kiss you and have a lot of fun with you (you know how… challenging Chibi - Aeriths are from the humour fanfics here). 

****

To other Fanfic Writers (This is more important!) Plagiarism Note:

There are a lot of Aeriseph fanfics around here. I've tried my best to stay as original as possible, but it's a bit hard to write this type of story without treading on someone's toes by accident along the line. Please, if you feel that I may have 'borrowed' some of your concepts or ideas by mistake, notify me immediately. **Email** a "cease and desist" message to me, point out where I have gone wrong, and I will act immediately to remove or modify the offending section(s). 

Thank you very, very much for your understanding and tolerance. 

OK, enough of this &@!$^*% already, why don't you read the story!

--------------------------------------- End of Disclaimer: --------------------------------------- 

VOULEZ – VOUS? 

****

WARNING: This chapter has been voluntarily rated PG - 13 for a violent scene that may prove disturbing. 

How long had he been here? Seconds? Minutes? Days? Months? Years? Decades? Centuries? Millennia? Eons? All he knew now was this lightless, airless, feelingless, soundless, tasteless void. There was not a soul out there for him to vent his anger on, no one to hear his angry cries. 

Not only was he suffering from the lack of sensation, which made his punishment seem so unreal, so nightmarish, he was lacking human contact, and this alone made his solitary confinement even more terrible and more maddening.

Now that he was left to himself, the inner demons fed upon his soul, plaguing him with the horrible memories of his mistakes.

He saw himself at Nibelheim again, putting the human town to the torch, laughing himself to tears as he saw those worthless insects writhe in pain as the flames consumed them. Those who did not perish in the conflagration died upon his blade. Every man he had slain he had given as a sacrifice to Jenova. 

__

Papa...? Sephiroth did this to you, didn't he? Sephiroth... SOLDIER... Mako Reactors... Shinra... Everything! I hate them all! 

Sephiroth... my family! My hometown! How could you do this to them?

What about MY sadness? My family… my friends... the sadness of having my hometown taken away from me? 

Now that he knew better, now that he knew that he had served _the _pretender instead, all of the people he had slain had come back with a vengeance, tearing his mind apart. He had killed a town full of innocent civilians, people who had done him no wrong except to have been at the wrong place at the wrong time. He had made two powerful enemies on that night just because of his misguided beliefs, the man and the woman who had played a part in his destruction. He had started out on the path of sin, and from there, he had killed, killed and killed, killing what he thought were the infidels who had betrayed the Ancients. He had indulged in wanton and gratuitous destruction, believing it as revenge for the destruction of his race. He had ruined his own life, besmirched his precious soul… all for the sake of that temptress, that false Cetra! 

He was now in the Forgotten Capital at nightfall, controlling the clone, the successful experiment marked with the number '1' on his hand. The girl was kneeling on the dais, the exact spot which he had decided would become the sacrificial altar, his best and finest offering to his 'mother'. For her 'sins', the girl would perish on the blade of her lover, that failed experiment, yet so successful as a puppet. But Strife was stronger than he had thought, and the fool had broken free of his control for a moment. The failed SOLDIER was looking so intently at the girl, obviously besotted with affection. He found it amusing and very fitting that he would prove to that wannabe challenger how powerless he actually was. He plunged down slowly, gracefully from the niche he'd been concealed in, giving Strife time to see that his pretty princess was about to die, and he could do nothing about it. The girl succumbed all too easily to the blade, and never had he laughed so hard when he kicked her corpse off the Masamune, when he heard the anguished cries of the foolish young man. 

__

Aeris… this can't be real!

Aeris is gone. Aeris will no longer laugh, cry... or get angry." 

What about my pain? My fingers are tingling. My mouth is dry. My eyes are burning!

What about us… what are WE supposed to do? 

By that one act of senseless cruelty, he had committed yet another mortal sin. He had killed the last _true _Cetra with his thoughtless actions. The Cetra were the guardians of the Planet, peaceful people who wanted only to let this world flourish, the ones who had saved all existence from his 'mother', and he had caused the light they had carried throughout the ages to die out. The Planet would be so much poorer without the presence of the Ancients. Before he had killed the girl, he had seen her crystal hair ornament come to life, glowing a faint green. Had he known that _she _was the chosen one who held the power of the Planet, he could have reversed his blade in mid – stroke, and he would have averted this foul murder. But no, his love for his 'mother' had made him go on, made him wade deeper and deeper into the mire of sin and into damnation. And again he had ruined the life of the poor young man, tearing away his lover, turning him into a monster full of fear and anger and hatred, bent on nothing save revenge… the perfect puppet… like himself… 

__

Are you trying to tell me that you have feelings too?

Stop acting as if you were sad. There's no need to act as if you were angry, either. Because you are…

You are just a puppet. You have no heart. You cannot feel any pain.

A puppet made up of vibrant Jenova cells, her knowledge, and the power of the Mako. That is your reality.

Yes. He was a puppet. He was no more than a soulless golem controlled by Jenova the same way he had controlled all his clones and the one called Strife. Like Strife, he had been weak – minded, and Jenova had simply pushed him over the edge, controlling all of his actions, forcing him to deny himself, suppress his true feelings and destroy everything he had ever held dear. This was his sin. How terribly ironic. How very stupid… so damned stupid indeed.

He sighed. He would have to live forever with those memories, tortured for all eternity by the guilt of the many injustices he had perpetrated. This was his punishment, and even in his most depraved and sadistic state of mind, he could think of no other chastisement worthy enough for one of his ilk. He hoped that he would go mad eventually and forget about everything he'd done, but that was impossible. Those memories would come up to the fore again and again, and the regrets and wishful thinking would not be able to redeem him. There was nothing else that he could do now that he was in the abyss. Absolutely nothing. 

"Sephiroth?"

He jerked his head around, looking here, there and everywhere, but there was no sign of the person who had spoken.

"Who are you? What do you want?" he barked. Perhaps the Planet, on a perverted whim, had sent a monster to keep him company, killing him with sour nothings for the rest of his existence here. 

"Sephiroth." The voice was firm and calm, but irresistibly sweet and haunting.

"Show yourself! Don't hide from me!" How could he fight a tormentor he could not see?

"I am Lucrecia. Do not be worried. I am here… to rescue you."

"Rescue me… how? Why are you doing this? Why?"

There was a pause, and when the invisible speaker continued, her voice was slow, sad and choking. "Because I am… your mother."

"What…? My… mother?"

"How?"

"Why?"

"Really?"

"Prove it! I don't believe you!"

__

He was now in the dim, sterile tiled enclosure of an operating theatre. Two surgeons were standing over a figure sprawled on the table, performing a Caesarian section. He knew the two doctors well despite their masks and gowns; one was a man with a kindly face, lined with concern for the woman whose child he was helping to deliver. The other man's eyes were slightly unfocused, his pupils dilated, and he knew that if he could strip away the surgical mask hiding his face, he would see his features contorted into a smirk of triumph.

"We're almost done, Lucrecia. Just a moment more," Gast clasped the woman's hand tightly, not caring if he was breaching the aseptic techniques he'd been taught as a first – year medical student. 

The placenta was cut at last, and the two doctors lifted the baby boy up and out of what was left of his inner sanctum, the once sacrosanct place of refuge that had been so cruelly violated by those needles that had held the green glowing fluid. 

The boy wailed suddenly, and he would not be crying for the last time either. He was born on a Wednesday, and his life would be filled with woe. Hojo could not help but laugh out loud, a noise that bore no mirth or warmth at all. Gast glared at the scientist and took the baby from his hands, showing him to the exhausted woman whose labours were at last over.

"So, Lucrecia… what name will you give this beautiful baby boy?"

"Safer Sephiroth," she replied immediately with a smile.

"So… you are my real mother?"

"Yes… I am. That is why I am here to release you from this prison. You have suffered so much, and in vain. The Planet has given you a second chance. Come with me, quickly."

A shimmering vortex appeared above him, a brilliant white light nestled at the very end of this astral gateway. Wasn't it the same path through which that Cetra girl had disappeared, leaving him alone in the blackness? He didn't deserve to go to the Promised Land, but why was he being asked to enter it now? He didn't know what was happening now, he didn't know what was right or wrong any more, but anything else was far preferable to being stuck forever in this unceasing limbo. He willed himself upwards as quickly as possible, relieved to leave the Lifestream behind for good.

Sephiroth found himself in a fragrant field of flowers. His beleaguered senses rejoiced at once, embracing this new environment like a long – lost friend, taking in the fresh, warm air of this Elysian Field, reveling in the music of the wind, taking comfort in the fact that he was actually standing on firm ground. He was alone in this strange garden… with a wispy, mousy – looking woman with goofy glasses and a lab coat, staring at him with undisguised and unbridled longing. She launched herself immediately at him, hugging him with all her strength, feeling his white hair, caressing his face gently, planting kisses everywhere. He did not know what to do about her. He thought that she had wasn't in her right mind, but he didn't want to offend his benefactress, not especially after she'd delivered him from his eternal prison. He still couldn't believe that this was happening, that someone had actually bothered about him, someone had actually saved him…

"You are… my mother."

Lucrecia sobbed, unable to reply. She pulled off her glasses, wiping her eyes on her son's strong and broad shoulder, clasping him even more tightly, afraid that he would disappear again into oblivion if she were to let go of him. 

"Sephiroth… my son, if only I had been there for you… none of this would have happened… forgive me…"

"I don't even know what's going on. I did not live until today. Someone tell me who I am!" All his life he had been given lies and false hopes to cling onto, and he was still unsure that this woman who was professing her maternal love for him would abandon him the very next moment. 

Lucrecia sniffed. Where could she begin? How would she be able to tell him the truth about his life, the details of which could become an acclaimed tragedy to be taught to future generations of literature students? But still, for his sake, she had to try. He needed to know about his past.

"Sephiroth… Professor Gast and Hojo found Jenova buried under the earth… they thought she was a Cetra. They wanted to see what would happen to a person infused with her genes, whether he would become a Cetra too.

"You were this person, Sephiroth. At that time Hojo wanted me to have a child, and it was later that I learned that he had wanted a baby for his trials, that he wanted to inject the Jenova cells into you. Every day until you came into the world you received a Jenova infusion, even though I knew this was wrong, even though I wanted to run and hide from it all… I wasn't brave enough to do it.

"When you were born at last, I was so overjoyed that you were safe and healthy. But Hojo took you away from me, and I wasn't able to take care of you after that. I could only watch from afar as they poisoned and corrupted your mind. I could only cry when I saw Jenova controlling you, making you go mad… 

"Sephiroth, I want you to know this: Jenova is _not _your mother. She is _not _a Cetra either. You are not a monster, you are a human being, my flesh and blood. She has been using you all along to carry out her selfish plans. Don't blame yourself. It is not your fault that you became an evil man. I am to blame for this. That is my sin. Forgive me, Sephiroth… you should be angry with me. You have every right to be so. But no matter what you think of me, I am beside myself with joy to see you one more time."

The black – cloaked man sat on the grassy ground, staring at those lovely flowers, fighting back tears as all his worst fears were confirmed by Lucrecia's account. So he had really been a puppet after all. He had been merely one more of Hojo's horrible experiments. That false Tarquin had slept with Lucrecia, raped her simply to get another test subject for one of his pet projects. Never had he ever felt so completely devastated, so terribly demoralised, so utterly without hope. He was like a drowning man trapped in a lake, swirling in the whirlpool, unable to even control his slightest movements. 

Could this be another clever charade by a creature such as Jenova to snare him? But he was useless to anyone now. He was nothing now but a piece of meat like that dead Cetra girl that lay decomposing in the lake, a weak – willed body without a mind to go with it. Who would want to save him? That woman was speaking to him so slowly, so patiently, so pleasantly. Jenova was an alien lifeform, and would never show such tenderness to him. Lucrecia was a human being, and he felt fortunate that she was able to express such deep feelings, such strong love for him. His own instincts had never proved wrong, and he knew in his aching heart that every word of what she had been saying was true, that she was indeed his long – lost mother. And even if she wasn't… he didn't care now. She was offering her love to him, and she wasn't asking for anything in return… not like Jenova… just like the gentlewoman… She _was_ his mother. 

"I am sorry… Mother… there was nothing you could have possibly done… I was not strong enough to survive."

Lucrecia felt encouraged by those words, pleased that her son had taken her words so calmly, so without prejudice. She decided to continue.

"The Planet spoke to me, Sephiroth. She said that you had been unfairly treated all your life, and that you were deserving of a second chance. You will be sent back into the world, and there you can atone for your sins."

He had been given a second chance at life, though he could think of any number of other people who were more deserving of it. But what could he do? Repent? Do good? Redeem himself? All of this sounded so promising, but it was easier said than done. He did not know himself, and because of this he was a dangerous man. He had flipped out so easily, so completely, and if another crisis were to come by to test his most basic beliefs, tearing away the thin toothpicks that supported his life, who knows what would happen to him, or worse still, what would happen to those around him? 

"What… return to the mortal world…? This is too good to be true, Mother, but I am so very afraid that I will fall back into my old ways again. I am so very weak – minded, and I fear that I will only expose myself to sin again if I were to return. I do not want to let you down."

She smiled kindly. "You do not need to worry, my dearest son, for you will not be alone. The Planet has decided to send one to protect you and console you on this journey. She will be your guardian angel."

And from behind approached a one – winged angel. It was the girl in the pink dress and red jacket, the girl with the long brown braided hair, the girl who wore the cupid's bow, the girl with the huge green eyes, the very same girl whom he had murdered on that fateful night in the Forgotten Capital. 

"… Gainsborough!" He spat the name like a curse. 

Whatever lucidity or calmness that his mother's presence had gifted him vanished instantly, exposing his anger again. The buffers that had kept him sane were only as thin as that of a bubble, and would burst with the slightest provocation. 

He spun around to face his mother, jabbing an accusing finger at the young Cetra, his face reddening as the veins expanded, his pupils narrowing to slits, his thick brows meeting each other in a fierce wedge of defiance.

"You cannot be serious, Mother! You cannot ask that… monster to accompany me! She hates me! She is my worst enemy! She destroyed my life! She wants to avenge her death!"

It seemed that the Planet had thought of an even more fitting punishment for him now. He would be forced to be reborn, and that creature called Gainsborough would become his ball and chain, free to enact her airheaded brand of revenge on him. No doubt that petty little thing must be giggling to herself, savouring every minute of this ironic reversal of roles. Who was the master now? Who would be the puppet now? 

Lucrecia shook her head, and her voice remained firm and gentle. "No, my child. 

You do not know it, but she was the one who saved you from a far worse fate. If not for her efforts, the Planet would have been destroyed, and there would truly be no hope for you now. She bears no hatred towards you, my dear. She has chosen freely… to help you."

"You don't understand, Mother! She is a liar! She is an insane woman! She's agreed to help you only because she wants a chance to make me suffer once you're no longer around to protect me! She'll join up with Strife and Lockheart and the others to make my life a living hell! Please, Mother! Not her! Anyone but her!"

"Be calm, and listen to me, Sephiroth. Aeris has selflessly agreed to aid you on this quest. She is putting everything aside to return with you. Please, go with her. She is a sweet and gentle girl. She is your only hope for redemption."

His anger washed over anew as his fate was so cruelly pronounced. He had fallen from the frying pan into the fire. Now he was being told that he could only be redeemed if he obeyed the instructions of that half – pint waif, that ditzy, disingenuous freak with the outsized doll – like eyes? After what he had done to her? After he'd ruined her love and her life with relish? It wasn't possible! No one would be so gracious as to take those insults lying down! That Cetra would definitely torture him! He didn't want to suffer that kind of embarrassment again! After a lifetime of being made to act as a marionette with no will or whim, he didn't want to be controlled by someone else! 

"No! I can't believe this! I will not be her slave! I will not serve one such as her! No! I will never agree to this! I will never do this again! Never again! No!"

His fragile, wounded soul could not take the pressure any more. For almost all of his childhood and his adult life he had been bullied and tortured instead of being nurtured, thrown brickbats and put down when he had needed praise and encouragement. All purpose in his life had been stripped away, all his beliefs fallen apart when he learned the truth about Jenova. He had been shamed beyond all imagining when those upstarts had challenged him and won, when that wimp had defeated him with powers he could not possibly match. And now he would be forced to surrender every last shred of dignity he possessed, and follow his most feared enemy, who would show him no mercy! All his negative energies, built up for thirty long years, pushed beyond bursting point by the final blows of recent events, screamed out for release, and he vented his rage on the first available person he could blame for his own sad fate.

He pounced upon the flower girl, teeth bared, his nails digging into her creamy skin. He let out an ululating, guttural animal cry as he punched and kicked and bit and scratched the young maiden with all his pent – up strength. He had commanded Strife to attack her once, wanting him to feel humiliation at its worst, wanting him to know that he was _his _slave, unable to protect the Black Materia, unable even to protect his dear Gainsborough. Like a predator that had tasted blood, he was not content with torturing his enemy just one time, and he had seen to it that Strife was lowered to the status of a cowering animal when he'd killed the girl at the water altar. And now, _he _was the animal, but he wouldn't surrender without a fight! Strife had done his job well; when he had finished abusing his girlfriend, he had left her with a broken nose, some missing teeth and a fractured rib. But he would certainly do better than that failed clone of himself. He would maul her, rip her limb from limb, run roughshod over her! He would teach _her _a hard lesson in the ways of humility, what it meant to be humiliated and brutalised! He would make her feel _his pain, his suffering!_

"Sephiroth, stop this! She has done you no wrong!" Lucrecia yelled, and he found his mother's hands on his shoulders, trying to pull him away, trying to keep him from fighting his adversary.

"Mother, please do not interfere with this," he snapped coldly, "I will have my revenge on Gainsborough today. If you choose to come between me, I will have no choice but to take you on!"

But Lucrecia still tried to restrain him, and his anger mounted. With a sudden burst of strength, he shook off his mother's gentle grip, throwing her several feet behind him, leaving her sprawling on the grass. 

He yanked those silly – looking bangs, dragging her forward, hoping to pull the lustrous hair she did not deserve to have from the roots. Those cheeks were so fair and rosy, concealing the monster that lay within. He slapped her, and he slapped her again and again, wanting to wipe that childish grin off her face forever, wanting to kill that imp that was trying to control him. Those round, pale green eyes of hers resembled the glow of the White Materia, the cowardly weapon that had destroyed his dreams. He didn't want to see any more of it! He stabbed both his hands at those eyes, hoping to dig them out, hoping that he wouldn't see the memories of his defeat shining in them anymore! 

But despite all the punishments he could visit upon her, she was still whole. She bore neither bruises nor cuts, and her beauty was not marred at all, not a hair out of place. She had accepted his beating without comment or protest, and she had made no move to resist. She had not as much as raised up a hand to ward off his attacks. She had taken it… like a man. If she had been someone else, she would have earned his grudging respect by now, but she was his enemy! If he could not defeat her, he would at least drag her to the ground with him! She would know shame! 

"… Are you feeling better now?" she asked at last in her sickening soprano voice. Worse still, those eyes were still intact, and they were looking at him with nothing but pity… the kind of sympathy one feels towards a diseased and dying puppy on the streets…

The Ancient merely bowed her head, hands clasped in front of her, getting ready for the next round of blows. It seemed that she had not learned her lesson yet. If she wanted him to continue to punish her, he would gladly oblige! 

He drew back his fist, gathering all his strength behind it for a knockout blow that would send that stupid Cetra kid flying to the other end of eternity. But another smooth and gentle hand rested on his shoulder. Was it his mother again? He did not want to refuse her request, but he did not want to go with Gainsborough either!

"Please do not hurt her, Sephy."

He had allowed only two people on this world to address him with this diminutive. 

"Auntie Ifalna?" he asked incredulously, and he found himself staring into his foster mother's beautiful face, warm with compassion, her deep emerald eyes, glowing with love, her long chestnut hair, bouncy with life. She had been his guardian for only a short while, but those eight years he had spent with Professor Gast and his wife had been the happiest in his life…

"Sephy… how I hate to see you like this… Why are you still so lonely, so fearful? Ever since we parted, you have suffered so much, but now, you have a chance to ease your sadness, if you will only allow yourself to take that step forward. Listen to your mother, Sephy. You cannot live alone, and you will certainly need a companion to help you survive. You do not need to worry about Aeris, as she has forgiven you already. Accept her help, for she is sincere, and cares about you too!"

"Auntie… why are you siding her too? Don't you see? She's obviously putting on an act! She's not really forgiven me, she's just waiting for her chance to make me pay for what I've done to her! I don't want to be controlled by anyone again, least of all her!" 

He prepared to redouble his attacks on the girl, but Ifalna was faster than him.

"Tell me, Sephy, is this the way you would treat your little sister? The friend you always wanted so badly, to play with you and keep you company?" 

He straightened, his fist unclenching unconsciously, his hand falling limply to his side, his anger momentarily forgotten.

"What…? She is your… daughter?" 

"Yes… Aeris is the sister you never had a chance to meet. And for that… I apologise."

Ifalna stepped forward, standing beside her daughter. Sephiroth was horrified at the resemblance. They looked… exactly alike, but in a way… they seemed so different somehow. His stepmother's face was flawless, her beauty restored in the Promised Land, but her features were always firm and composed, perpetually wise and serious. Her brows were furrowed with a lifetime of worrying about others, and her eyes were deep, dark and understanding, having known happiness and sorrow, love and loss. Aeris, however, appeared the exact opposite of her mother. Her cheeks were soft and glowing, and the corners of her small lips seemed to curve upwards a little, used to a lifetime of smiles and happiness. Her eyes, those very same eyes that he had tried to gouge out a moment ago, were bright and sparkling with vivacity, like bubbly champagne. Aeris had suffered much too, but she was still very young, and even death had done little to dampen her free – spirited nature.

He sank to the ground again, his anger spent at last, dissipating slowly in the manner of a deflating balloon, the guilty feelings threatening to make him depressed again. He was no better than those horrible boys who had bullied him during his youth. Now… he had bullied his little sister, losing forever the friendship of the very person he had secretly promised to protect, to make sure she didn't suffer the same hardships he'd been forced to endure. If that was not enough, he had even killed her. So this was the way the fates had made sport of him. It was bad enough that he'd screwed himself up completely, but worse still that he had destroyed everything that meant so much to those who had mattered to him, those whom he had considered his friends, his relatives, his comrades. His life had passed him by, filled with grim humour and sickening parodies. He could not deny the truth any longer, and the walls came tumbling down at last. He buried his head in his hands, not wanting anyone to see him in this moment of weakness, not wanting them to see the tears that were making their way free from his broken heart, the grief fighting its way out of his tattered soul. 

Lucrecia did not speak, but she wrapped her arms around him, weeping with him, sharing this moment of sorrow and regret with him. That small gesture was so important, so valuable to Sephiroth now, and he turned and clung onto his mother, letting his feelings go, letting the tears wash away everything.

They sat there like that for many moments, crying softly until their grief was completely expended, until they could shed no more tears. And when they got up at last, the two Cetra came forward. Ifalna was smiling, glad that Sephiroth was finally able to have a shoulder to cry on, someone to help him tide over this torrid time. The flower girl's eyes were glazed and misty. Sephiroth was not a monster. He was no murderer. He was no villain either. He was just another human being like any of them. Sephiroth _was_ capable of feelings, and now she knew for certain that he was not beyond redemption. She _had _to help him, but… 

Ifalna looked straight into his now calm eyes, green with life and humanity, glowing with Mako and Jenova cells. He had been exposed to the best and worst of both worlds, and for better or worse, he would learn how to live with it. There was no more anger in those eyes now. There was no more sadness in them now. Now that he could think for himself, it was time for him to decide who he was. 

"Sephy… a second chance is waiting for you, begging you to seize it. The world is waiting for you. My daughter is ready to journey with you. The question, Sephy, is… do you want to?" 

Sephiroth looked long and hard at Ifalna. She was the gentlewoman who had looked after him when he was young. She was ever a voice of reason to soothe the savage beast within him. He would have to make her proud. His gaze turned to Lucrecia, the woman who had given him life. Even though he did not know her at all, she had never given up on loving him, and her motherly love had delivered his soul from Hades. He had to live on for her sake. He stared at the young Cetra. If not for an unfortunate turn of events, they might have been living happily together as brother and sister. He was still pretty certain that she could not forgive everything that had happened in the past, and it would be difficult to trust her, let alone accept her, but he had to try, for he wanted to make his mother and his guardian happy. 

Finally, he lowered his head and looked inward. His life had been comprised of nothing save one disaster after another, punctuated with missed opportunities and sorrowful episodes. But now, he knew himself better, and he would never commit the same mistakes again. And this time, he knew that someone would be out there to love him. It would be a shame if he were to leave his life hanging like that, letting it be known forever as a tragedy… It was time to be the master of his own scene. It was time to rewrite his own story. 

He owed himself another chance. 

"I do," he finally replied.

__

A/N: Poor poor Sephy. Like I have said earlier on, I will torment him until he understands my pain, my sadness at the flower girl's death, and finally decides to make it up with her=). He is a bit mad, at any rate, experiencing some wild mood swings, being erratic and unreasonable at times, don't forget that he was unfortunate enough to have a crazed psychotic for a dad, and a demented author with a grudge against him to give him a personality =). Tell me what you think of him, at any rate.

Don't choke on your lunch over the eye - gouging scene. It happens often enough in football matches (and sometimes soccer games), but it may be a bit gross to some people. My apologies if it's the prime example of grossness. 

Anyway, "Voulez - vous" in French means "Do you want to?" Another successful theft of an ABBA song title!

To my Reviewers: Keep 'em coming!!!

To Starling94 and CrowT R0bot: Thanks for being my faithful readers! I'll try my best to keep my standards high and update as regularly as I can. Kyahahaha!

To Starfall4790: Now, is this fic cooler? Give me your comments!

To Dclick: FF7 is one of the most complex games I've ever known… and the darkest and saddest game I've ever played… a true Squaresoft masterpiece. There are so many open - ended questions that are never resolved, such as what the Promised Land is. Some say it's like a paradise or heaven exclusive to the Ancients, while in the Gold Saucer, Aeris tells Cloud that you have to search for it till you've got there, implying that it can be found when you're still alive. And of course (sorry if I've mentioned it before), there's the final FMV with Aeris in the Lifestream, which implies that the Lifestream's the Promised Land itself. And of course, what happens after that famous scene when Cloud reaches for Aeris, and realises that there is a way to find her? Will Cloud take this lying down and marry Tifa, or will he find a way to resurrect her, or will he wait until he is old and grey and join her in death, or will he just take the short and easy path by falling on his sword? But then, he is not a Cetra, and how can he enter the Promised Land then? I wish I could corner Tetsuya Nomura and get some answers out of him. He's a genius, but if only he could have provided more closure to the game… 

For me, I prefer humour and romance fics, if you want to see another story (actually, the first trendsetter) of Aeris as Sephy's guardian, check out "The Good Deeds of Sephiroth" by Yokai Hansha. It is especially good if you are not particularly averse to Cloud - bashing. 

Thanks again for the reviews!


	8. Chapter 8: So Long

****

OF A PURE HEART, A FALLEN KNIGHT AND THE ONE – WINGED ANGELS

__

----------------------------------------- Disclaimer: ------------------------------------------

To the Reader and the Lawyers:

Final Fantasy VII, and all the characters, including Aeris and Sephiroth, Cloud, Tifa, Barret, Vincent, Yuffie, Red, Cid, Cait Sith (Reeve), Ifalna, Professor Gast, Lucrecia, Professor Hojo Frankenstein, Jenova the Mad, Rufus (any anyone I may have inadvertently missed out) are property of Square Enix Co, formerly Squaresoft LLC. Tell me if my disclaimer ain't good enough. I will reward you with a few thousand Chibi - Aeriths dosed to the nines with Hypers, and they shall hug you and squeeze you and kiss you and have a lot of fun with you (you know how… challenging Chibi - Aeriths are from the humour fanfics here). 

****

To other Fanfic Writers (This is more important!) Plagiarism Note:

There are a lot of Aeriseph fanfics around here. I've tried my best to stay as original as possible, but it's a bit hard to write this type of story without treading on someone's toes by accident along the line. Please, if you feel that I may have 'borrowed' some of your concepts or ideas by mistake, notify me immediately. **Email** a "cease and desist" message to me, point out where I have gone wrong, and I will act immediately to remove or modify the offending section(s). 

Thank you very, very much for your understanding and tolerance. 

OK, let's mosey, man!

--------------------------------------- End of Disclaimer: --------------------------------------- 

SO LONG

"I do."

He was rewarded by comforting smiles from both his parents, and a hand reached out from an unexpected direction.

Gainsborough had come to shake his hand. She was wearing her ubitiquous grin, and those angel eyes, her main disguise, glittering with what could only be pleasure. She was obviously very satisfied at his decision to become her thrall, and wanted to seal this dark pact with a small handshake. 

The little voice in his head urged him to think it over. She wanted (was it genuine?) to make amends, to forget what had happened between them with this handshake. But he knew in his gut that it wouldn't be so easy. Even if her motives were true (he really didn't believe so, despite what Lucrecia and Ifalna said), even if he was forced to work with her now, he would still remain her enemy. She had worked with Avalanche, and by fighting for the Planet, she had been fighting to destroy him. The Cetra female had been a serious threat to the success of his mission, and he had to destroy her to keep her from putting paid to his plans. She was still his enemy (even though she had been fighting for a better cause than his – she had been fighting against him!). If she wanted to bury the hatchet now, to put out the fire by burying it with just one small bucket of sand, (if she really wanted to, that was) she was hoping for the impossible, as the past could not be so easily forgotten. The still water of enmity ran deep, very deep indeed, and a simple handshake couldn't wish it all away. He could not forget what he had done to her, and he could not forget what she had done to him. 

Her hand was smooth like her mother's, her fingers delicately tapered like her father's, and her nails were almond – shaped and glossy. She had been dealt a very good hand to play her game with, but he would not be so easily fooled by her coquettish charms. 

He ignored her waiting hand. After a few tense moments, she gave up, but those tempting eyes still did not lose their confident glint. 

Eager to defuse the rising tension between the two, Lucrecia stood between them.

"Ifalna, may we visit your house? I'm sure the Professor would love to see him."

The older Cetra nodded. There was much her husband could tell him, and perhaps the two of them would be able to convince him that her daughter could be trusted. But it would be hard, as Shinra had conditioned Sephiroth from young to trust no one. 

Aeris and Ifalna left the ground, hovering above them. Sephiroth's eyes widened, not believing that even the half – Cetra, that one – winged angel could fly. But was she half angel or half devil? He had been able to fly once, when he had taken on the Safer form, but he wasn't sure if his spirit body could do it too.

Lucrecia turned to her son. "Sephiroth, close your eyes and concentrate. Jenova was not an Ancient, yet many of her powers are akin to that of the Cetra. You too have the power of flight."

The silver – haired general did as his mother bade him. He too wanted to be able to fly again, to best that silly girl, that the fact that what she'd done for the Planet didn't entitle her to become superior to him! She was weak, but still she was able to exert her authority on him! He couldn't stand it! He wanted to prove himself! He would be his own master! 

And from his back sprouted a single wing, large enough to envelop his entire right side from which it had grown from. Unlike the flower girl's wing, however, his was sinewy and covered with huge, spidery veins. His wing had no feathers, but was leathery and stretched over several thick strong bones like that of a bat's. How grimly appropriate, he thought, as this ugly appendage fitted the sinful heart of a villain like him.

They set off, quickly entering the city in the clouds. As when Aeris first set foot in the heavenly megalopolis, many people came to see their new visitor, for a one – winged angel was a very uncommon sight indeed, and no one had ever seen someone with such a _strange_ wing before. Sephiroth ignored their wide eyes and opened mouths, even though he grew more and more uneasy and conscious of himself. He knew that they were secretly whispering about him, that he was the monster who had almost destroyed the Planet if not for _her_, that he was one of the damned, a fallen angel cursed with a demon's flapper, that he was the proverbial snake in the Garden of Eden, that his presence was probably causing them great grief. 

Arriving at last at the Gasts' house, Ifalna pushed the door open, and Lucrecia and Aeris stepped inside. Sephiroth hesitated, not sure on whether to enter his foster parents' home. The Professor and his wife had done their very best for him, seeing to it that he was well loved and taken care of during his early years. They had been hoping that he would have grown up to become a kind and righteous person like them, but he had forgotten their patient teachings amidst the suffering and the privations of Shinra's regime, and now… He couldn't understand why they were still so nice to him despite how he'd shamed his upbringing. He still could not believe that Gainsborough was Ifalna's daughter… she had looked so much like his stepmother… why did he not see the resemblance earlier… if only he had known… But he had let himself forget about the two people who had taken him in as an orphan, treated him like their own son… and now he had killed their only child. He remained outside, for he would only darken their door again if he were to step inside their house.

Ifalna appeared in the doorway, fixing a questioning glance on him.

"Why don't you come in?" she offered, "Everyone is waiting for you inside. Don't bother about pleasantries, make yourself comfortable."

"I'm… I'm… sorry," Sephiroth finally managed to stammer, "I… can't. Not after what I've done to all of you. I will remain outside."

Ifalna closed her eyes, shaking her head with regret. He still hadn't changed much after all those years. He was still a child at heart. She would have to take him by the hand, reassuring him all the way that it was all right, that no one would blame him for what he hadn't done. 

"Nonsense," she replied firmly, "There is no need to apologise. All of us still love you!" She went behind the tall man, dragging him into the house, her beating wings giving her the strength to push him forward. 

Sephiroth sighed. This was a bitter pill for him to swallow. His guardian was being too kind to him.

Ifalna did not let go of him until he had been firmly seated in one of several comfortable plush chairs arranged in a small semicircle in front of a small coffee table. The Professor was already sitting on a chair to his right, his wife settling down next to him. Opposite him was his mother, and an empty chair… His eyes darted from corner to corner, until he found Gainsborough in a corner, partially hidden by her mother. She was smart enough to sit where he couldn't attack her with a glare, and she probably wanted him to feel more confident with her out of his line of sight, in the hope that he would slip some 'secrets' for her to use against him later. That devious little thing. 

He felt his large hand being gripped by two smaller ones, thankfully not Gainsborough's. They were warm, but wet with sweat. The Professor was welcoming him back, but he was not smiling. Sephiroth quickly withdrew his hand, hiding it in his pocket. Gast had looked at him like this only once before…

"Professor… why didn't you tell me the truth?"

Professor Gast lowered his head. The boy was smart, and he had hit the nail perfectly. He swallowed, turning away from Sephiroth's intense gaze.

"You were too young, Sephy… we simply didn't want you to worry about what really happened… we were just waiting for the day when you would be old enough to understand the truth…" He cursed inwardly. Sephiroth did not want a stock answer. He had to try harder, despite the pain it was causing him… and the pain that would cause his adopted son. He took a deep breath… and prayed for the strength to unburden his soul.

"Sephy… I was the one who approved of the plan to infuse Jenova cells into a human being. I did not like Hojo's suggestion that he carry the experiment out on his own son… but I was too eager to see what would happen… we would all be famous and respected if this project succeeded, if we were able to bring back the race of the Ancients, and because of this… I did not oppose him… I let him carry out his atrocities on you. If this was not bad enough… we did not want to tell you about it… because we were afraid that… others would find out, and I did not want any harm to happen to you, Ifalna… or myself. We were living so peacefully, and I hoped that we could push it all under the carpet, that you would grow up safely and as a normal child. The Jenova Project was one of Shinra's most jealously guarded secrets. The President's wrath would have been great if word of it leaked out… the arm of Shinra was very long, and we would not be able to escape it alive…" He covered his face, unwilling to see Sephiroth's reaction to the shameful truth.

"Sephy… forgive me… don't ever think highly of me again… I'm just a coward. I knew you were mature enough to understand everything even at your age, but… how could I dare to speak out? If only I had been brave enough to tell you all this earlier… everything might not have happened. You would have been able to resist Jenova. The people of Nibelheim wouldn't have died, you wouldn't have killed the unfortunate people working in Shinra. You would not have summoned Meteor, and the loss of thousands of lives might have been averted. And Aeris…" He dared not look at his daughter, but had he done so, he would have been comforted by the serious yet soft look in those tearing eyes. 

"If only I hadn't discovered Jenova in the first place… I know that this mistake was unavoidable, but my sin was not stopping the Jenova infusions, not letting you know about your true parentage. I have made a terrifying error of judgement that has almost destroyed everyone's lives… perhaps all that has happened… the death of my daughter… is my punishment. Sometimes I do not know why I am here, in heaven… I don't deserve to come here too. I'm sorry, Sephy…" He sobbed, and Ifalna smoothed his hair, her face contorted with grief.

The entire room was silent for many minutes. Only the steady rhythm of falling tears from all present broke this uneasy peace. 

It was then that Sephiroth looked at the Professor. By right, now that he'd told his ward his dirty little secret, and the silver – haired man had not gone mad with anger and tried to slice up everyone in this house, he should have appeared… happier, or at least a little less depressed. He felt something like a stone sink in his stomach. But there was just one last thing he wanted to know… He had this sick feeling that he should give his curiosity a rest, that he was far better off not knowing the answer to his final question…

"Then, Professor… why did you leave me?"

The Professor did not reply. He raised his head, stealing just one glance at his former stepson before covering his face again. His eyes were bloodshot and his hands were limp. 

"Please, Uncle Gast. I want to know."

The scientist turned to look at Ifalna, as if requiring her to give him one last burst of strength to perform an act that required the greatest courage. His wife gazed at him for a long moment, and finally nodded. 

Gast began to speak, and his voice was muffled and halting. 

"I… decided to resign from Shinra one day… I was about to leave when… Hojo came… he pointed a gun at me… and demanded that I… leave you behind. He told me… that… if I didn't… he would kill me, and he'd… keep Ifalna and Aeris as… lab rats. He'd… rape my wife… and inject my daughter with Jenova cells… mate her… with his other experiments… clone her… He'd torture them… and turn them into monsters… I… didn't want that to happen… so I… gave you up to him… I didn't know that he'd go back on his word…"

His grief and his shame were made known with loud, regretful sobs. Ifalna got out of her chair, and buried herself in his arms, crying softly. Even Gainsborough was hiding her face in her jacket, and he thought that he heard some sniffling beneath it... but that sound was probably coming from his stepmother. 

"So… we are all sinners."

There was no sadness or anger in Sephiroth's voice. He just stared into empty space. The void in his life had been finally filled, and he had finally received the answers he had sought for thirty long years. Never mind that they hurt his soul as much as a killing blow with the Masamune. Beggars could not afford to be choosers. He'd seen it coming even before Lucrecia had told him the truth about Jenova's origins. At least he knew now. 

Even though he knew that he should be furious, that he should feel betrayed by the people whom he'd looked up to for so long, he just couldn't. So the good Professor Gast had been responsible for bringing this crisis upon him. He knew that Hojo was abusing his mother, turning her into another plaything, dehumanising her more and more with each succeeding syringe, and he had just stood by, doing nothing to stop it, just because he too, like his biological father, had given in to his own personal ambitions. But still, how could he have possibly known that he was marrying the devil with an innocent child by doing that? When he had realised his mistake, Gast had tried to make up for it, taking the young Sephiroth under his wing, becoming a father to him when Hojo had absolutely no interest in the baby except as a test subject containing his own DNA. But in the end, even the Professor had left him behind, giving him up to the ultimate evil, sending him back into the darkness. But how could he possibly blame the Gasts for making that choice? Even though they had taken him in, he was still an outsider. Blood was always thicker than water, and Gast would definitely have put his family before his ward. No one was completely unselfish. His Uncle had been faced with the classic dilemma of whether to amputate a limb to save a life or to leave it to chance. The Professor would have come out second best against a madman with a gun, and he could not run from Shinra forever if he had fallen foul of them. He had been forced to act like a doctor, and he had exercised professional judgement. He could only take cold comfort in the fact that no one here was completely innocent… but no one was completely guilty except for him.

"It does not matter now… I care little about it… all I know that I still am the one at fault, no matter what anyone did or who influenced me. I may have been a puppet or an accessory, but I was the one who wielded the killing blade. The blood is still on my hands. One way or the other, I will go back into this world… I have no choice but to go on…" 

Ifalna turned to her daughter, who by now had recovered sufficiently to look straight at her. 

"Aeris, can you go upstairs and prepare a room for Sephy?"

"Yes, Mom." There was a soft rustle of fabric, and a few light steps were heard as she took her leave. But the Cetra girl knew as well as her mother that everything had been prepared for him the day before. 

The grim warrior sank into his chair. His hands now rested on his knees, and his shoulders drooped a little. 

Gast was still overwrought, but now that he'd gone through the worst of it, he found that he could speak again. But this time, his relief was balanced by the sensitivity of the subject he was about to broach.

"Sephiroth…" he ventured, not daring any more to presume familiarity with his former stepson, "…Thank you… for accepting my explanation… trust me… it was the worst, and the hardest thing I ever had to do in my life… I… don't expect you to forgive us… but I hope that you let my daughter go with you. Even if you do not like her… please try your best to work hard with her. Take care of her. For in her, we see our hopes and our lives going on. She represents everything that could have been, had things turned out better… she will be the one who will redeem us."

Sephiroth sat up, glaring long and hard at the Professor. The scientist heard him breathe, a short, sharp sucking sound, and prepared for the worst possible response from him.

"Don't you know, Professor? Her very presence makes me fear for myself… that I may slip back into my old ways… or worse, that those whom I have wronged will return with a vengeance! I simply cannot bear to see her face. She is the ghost of my past. I am afraid of her… because I still cannot forgive myself. Even if you claim that she is merciful, and very forgiving, I cannot believe it, even though I wish with all my heart that it would be true. What I know is that forgiveness between bitter enemies doesn't come easy, and she will have to be the one who has to work hard to show me that she doesn't mind me any more! I may trust you and Auntie, but I do not know Gainsborough at all… I am still very scared that she'll do something to me… I do not trust her… yet." He bit off the last word. 

Ifalna then spoke. "Then you must be calm, and listen carefully to the voice of your soul. Why did you believe Lucrecia, why did you believe us unless you knew within your heart that we were right? Don't let self – pity and anger blind you to the truth, Sephy. You know what is right, but you do not want to accept it."

"I don't know… I cannot hear myself… I just know that I won't be able to believe her until that she has done nothing to the contrary. I still… cannot let go…" There were seeds of doubt already in his heart, but still… he didn't want to trust himself, not this time. 

Ifalna wished again that she had been there all the way to bring Sephiroth up, for he'd gone through far too much, and he had emerged hardened and pessimistic. He was intelligent, but he had been deceived and betrayed many times in his life, and these bad experiences had made him by nature suspicious, stiff – necked and unwilling to change. He thought with his head when he needed to think with his heart.

"But you surely can. Give yourself time."

The warrior paused, finally giving in to his former guardians.

"Very well. I have already committed myself to this quest… I will let Gainsborough go with me… but know this. I do not do this for her. Both of you have taken care of me for eight years, and for that I am eternally grateful. I will aid her… because I do not want to see you suffer for my sins."

He stood up, indicating that the conversation was over. His mother led him to the room where he would be sleeping in. He tried not to turn his head aside when he saw Gainsborough flitting past him, a pink shadowy form.

Entering the room, Lucrecia took her son by the hand. 

"Sephiroth… after tonight, when you awaken… you will be back in the world. Please remember the advice your foster parents have given you… and believe in yourself. I'll be watching you from here, so don't you ever say you'll be alone again."

She took out from her coat a small polished wooden box. It was very old, but it was still sturdy and well kept. 

"Please do me this favour when you return. You will meet up with Avalanche eventually… and when you do, give this to the man called Vincent Valentine – the one I failed to love. Please tell him that I am in Heaven, and that there is hope even for one who has sinned."

Sephiroth wordlessly tucked the box into his pocket. 

Lucrecia was weeping again, and she embraced Sephiroth again, for this would surely be the last time she would see him in person for a long time indeed. But she felt satisfied for the first time in many years. Her son would now get the chance he never had, and even as the Gasts pinned their hopes on Aeris, she was counting on Sephiroth to help her achieve redemption.

"Goodnight, Sephiroth, my dearest son… and goodbye."

Lucrecia stepped backwards, her beauty distorted by joy and sadness. She waved once to him, and she was seen no more. 

"Mother…"

The silver – haired man stretched himself out on the bed. He closed his eyes, and still he could see the fires of Nibelheim, the trail of blood in the Shinra building, the sight of the black cloaked men dying one by one, and the murder of that girl… but those distressing visions of fear and pain were soon chased away, and he could see only… his mother's face… his mother's face… her love… her happiness… her pride in him… 

Peaceful oblivion came quietly…

*****

Aeris sat down on the bed, savouring her last night in the Promised Land. She would be giving up the lovely field of flowers, the friendships she had gained there, the lore she had learned, the sheer beauty and wonder of this place. She would miss paradise keenly. She would not have returned to the world, for it represented too many lost opportunities, too many pains, too many bad memories. 

But she just couldn't refuse Lucrecia, and she couldn't disappoint her parents. She had overheard everything they had said. Even if they were using her (for a good cause, though!), even if they were living through her vicariously, she knew that they were counting on her, and how could she bear to make them suffer the same pain of loss she was suffering now, the same sadness that came from losing a loved one permanently? 

The blond – haired man… and the dark – haired girl...

But wait, they weren't the only people she'd known, were they? What had happened to Barret, Cid, Vincent, Yuffie, Cait Sith, Red and all her other friends? What about Elmyra, who was still mourning her loss? What about Marlene, who was still patiently waiting for her return? 

She chided herself for not thinking straight. Not long ago she had decided to resist the call to the Promised Land, for she'd wanted to be with her friends every step of their journey. She wanted to explore the Planet with people she knew, share her happiness with them, and make their lives a little more bearable by lending a hand, whispering a kind word here and there and breaking their morose moods with a little laugh. She still had a family back in the mortal world, people who still cared for her, people who still needed her around. And now, she had become so narrow – minded, so oblivious of everything that was new, the fresh experiences that were waiting for her… just because Tifa and Cloud got married. Her quest to save a soul (and three more, now) aside, there was no real reason why she shouldn't return to the world. She just had to get over that particular setback. 

She thought about the one – winged angel, the poor man she had agreed to assist. Now that the madness was behind him, she saw that he was a delicate and self - conscious person, a man full of angst. He could not forgive himself, nor could he forget his past, and that was why he still stayed spiteful and unreasonable. She knew that she was in for a tough time, as she would have to work doubly hard to convince him of her intentions. But he too was in need of help, and he was certainly very deserving of it. He was brave enough to face her and courageous enough to go on with his life. Even that man, who was selfish enough to destroy everyone's world, to destroy the Planet for his personal glory, had put his hatred of her aside to satisfy his loved ones. There was still good in him, and she could still feel it through the clouds that were hanging over his soul. If only she could make the light shine again…

She would perform her duties to her parents, Lucrecia, and Sephiroth… and at the same time, enjoy her life the way she wanted to last time. And who knows, now that she'd been given a new book of days, another handsome prince might just show up after all…

Her life had to go on for their sake. And hers. 

Her mother and father stepped in at that moment, holding each other tightly. They had come to say goodbye. She ran up to them, joining her arms with theirs, weeping in unison.

"Mother, Father," she began, "I heard everything… you don't need to be worried about me. I'll do my best to save him… and all of you."

"Aeris… I don't know why someone like me would be blessed with such a fine daughter like you… but… you have made me find happiness at last." Gast looked tenderly at her, admiring the fine features of the girl, her humble and self – sacrificing nature. He pecked her on the cheek, and she could feel the tears running down her face.

"My daughter, I know that you will be able to make Sephy come around. Once he listens to you, once he accepts you, he will become a hero once more. He will move heaven and earth, if only for his guardian angel…" Ifalna could not continue any more, the sad waters of parting muting her voice. She bade Aeris farewell by kissing her on the forehead.

It was a long time before they let go of each other, and it took far longer before any of them left the room, for this parting was necessary but sad. Their reunion, though joyful, was far too short. They would meet again, certainly, but the heartbreak one suffers by rediscovering a loved one, only to lose her again, is much, much worse, and more unbearable by far.

And as the door closed, Aeris could still hear her mother crying softly in the night…

__

A/N: Enough shocking revelations for today? Enough tearjerking for one day? Professor Gast has been portrayed in most, if not all, the fanfics I've read as a goody two shoes, so I decided to eat one of his loafers, and see what would happen next…

If you have played Kingdom Hearts, you will know that Cloud is the one who has the bat wing… but it fits Sephiroth just as well. 

Well… hope you like my analogy of the limb and the life, I was surfing the net, during one of my more morbid moods, and I came across an online document detailing an amputation technique. At the very end, the author reminds the reader that "Amputations are carried out to save lives." In this case Gast had to let go of Sephiroth, otherwise he would risk bringing everyone down if he didn't. It was a very tough choice, and obviously one a parent or surrogate father would never want to face. 

If you think the idea of cloning Aeris seems very familiar indeed, it is, for this concept was put up by Zahra in I Know What Lies Beneath the Snow Fields._ It was one of the saddest, but most impressive bombshells ever thrown my way in a fanfic. It just makes you feel nothing but pity for the poor girl… and makes you hate the main villain even more. I just couldn't resist putting that in. Take it as my nod of approval for her fic. I just wish she'd update more quickly… I can't wait for Chapter 94 to come up… how long more… it's been months! _

****

Finally… the section that you, my gentle audience have been waiting for so long… 

(If you can't find your name, scroll down till you find it!)

__

To Starfall4790: 

Patience, Starfall, patience… your wish will come true soon… I've been told that my stories are quite slow paced, but I like everything nice and easy. I hope this chapter will ease your craving for a little while more… 

__

To Homunculus: 

It's nice to see that (almost) everyone is saying that I'm getting Aeris and Sephiroth right, maybe I should go back to the script and take a closer look at it, maybe I can do better. Good that you like my writing style. But then, there is a pitfall to this kind of descriptive writing. How much should you "show" and how much should you "tell"? Some things are best left implied, and some things cannot be inferred at all unless the author describes it properly. I don't really care, I guess. I'm writing this for fun… and for the reviews =)

__

To Theyreallyloveme: 

Yes, I am painfully aware of the difficulties involved in an Aeris / Sephiroth couple, and this has made me grow several silver hairs already. Wish me luck!

Mmmm… they never really answer the question as to what happens to those souls used up by the Mako reactors, save to say that they turn into a form unusable by the Planet. It would be pretty ironic (and damned humorous) if Aeris were to end her afterlife powering someone's PS2 to play Final Fantasy VII. Perhaps someone could write a fic on that (Save Aeris from the Shinra Electric Power Company!)

__

To Crow T R0bot: 

………

So Vincent is Sephy's dad after all… this is really an unfortunate mistake, and I am sorry. This is my sin=).

Thanks for bringing this up to me, but now, I'm afraid that little can be done to clear this up… I cannot turn back, so I will just have to go on with my current storyline… with courage… (insert cheers and claps!)

No matter, however. Let's try to look at the bright side… it is a fanfic after all, and fanfictions are meant to be slightly AUish by nature (just as the whole Aeris resurrection concept is). Now… the established fact (at least in this fic) that Hojo is Sephykin's dad opens up quite a few possibilities (though I admit I haven't given it much thought yet), but it has the effect of making Sephiroth's quest more noble, since he's the son of a bad guy (some say _the _bad guy), and he's trying to go past his father's legacy and redeem himself (sounds cliched, but it's a winning formula, and it pulls at the heartstrings).

I hope everyone will forgive me for this glaring oversight, and continue to enjoy this fic. Remember what Lucrecia says, that there is hope even for a sinner?

Don't worry, I'm sure you aren't the only guy reading this fic, maybe they're too sensitive to post their views=) Thanks once again for your valuable input!

__

To DracOnyx: 

Congratulations! You are the first person to be critical of my work! (Fanfare! Confetti burst! Fireworks!) 

About the "catfight": since I'm as arrogant as our fave villain, I'll give you my official explanation for this event. And since I am trying my utmost to be forthright and forthcoming as a new fanfic author, I will reward you with an unofficial explanation too!

The official line: 

Sephy _hates_ the flower girl. He doesn't think very highly of her, and certainly he doesn't believe that she's worthy enough to "take it like a man". He wants her to suffer as degrading and ignominious a bashing as possible, and thus you see him sullying his reputation to get his revenge on her. He doesn't think she's worthy enough to take a good left hook or an uppercut. No doubt, if he had the Masamune with him at that time, he would have killed her with it… by whacking her with the scabbard!

My unofficial explanation (don't quote me on this):

I just thought it was cool at that time to put it up! I like it at any rate!

Now… the more distressing part about Sephy being out of character. He's basically a man full of angst, as you can see… and he's a man capable of deep feeling under that cold and haughty exterior of his (think of Cloud, or Squall). And in my story (see my reply to Crow T R0bot above), Sephiroth is the son of a madman, and thus he's a bit crazy too, a bit irrational at times… It's my fault I guess, if Sephy turns out a bit sappy here… that's my style of writing. I love emotional stuff (shows what a wuss I am), but never doubt it, Sephiroth is made of sterner stuff. In fact, I am asking myself whether I am taking serious liberties with Aeris' character too… hope it turns out right.

At least you still like my fic, and that is what matters the most! Thanks for your two cents worth here!

__

To Starling94:

So… you are a gal, hmm? Well, I'm a guy, and I can't help but feel slightly awkward that I'm writing a romance fic of all things. (Don't see many male romance writers out there) Thanks for expressing your support for this story. It is very heartening to know that even the gals are impressed by the mushy trash I write (sob!) Here's a hug! And here's a Chibi - Aerith from my personal collection! (Don't worry about her, unlike the ones given in my disclaimer, this particular Aeris plushie is totally sweet, and looks so sad and heartbroken (especially after getting clobbered by Sephy and dumped by Cloud), so just take care of her, yep?) 

__


	9. Chapter 9: Terminate and Stay Resident ...

****

OF A PURE HEART, A FALLEN KNIGHT AND THE ONE – WINGED ANGELS

__

----------------------------------------- Disclaimer: ------------------------------------------

To the Reader and the Lawyers:

Final Fantasy VII, and all the characters, including Aeris and Sephiroth, Cloud, Tifa, Barret, Vincent, Yuffie, Red, Cid, Cait Sith (Reeve), Ifalna, Professor Gast, Lucrecia, Professor Hojo Frankenstein, Jenova the Mad, Rufus (any anyone I may have inadvertently missed out) are property of Square Enix Co, formerly Squaresoft LLC. Tell me if my disclaimer ain't good enough. I will reward you with a few thousand Chibi - Aeriths dosed to the nines with Hypers, and they shall hug you and squeeze you and kiss you and have a lot of fun with you (you know how… challenging Chibi - Aeriths are from the humour fanfics here). 

****

To other Fanfic Writers (This is more important!) Plagiarism Note:

There are a lot of Aeriseph fanfics around here. I've tried my best to stay as original as possible, but it's a bit hard to write this type of story without treading on someone's toes by accident along the line. Please, if you feel that I may have 'borrowed' some of your concepts or ideas by mistake, notify me immediately. **Email** a "cease and desist" message to me, point out where I have gone wrong, and I will act immediately to remove or modify the offending section(s). 

Thank you very, very much for your understanding and tolerance. 

OK, let's mosey, man!

--------------------------------------- End of Disclaimer: --------------------------------------- 

TERMINATE AND STAY RESIDENT EVIL

He stared into the mirror, the full – length oracle before him, showing him who was the ugliest of them all.

There was a faint whirring of machinery, and a clawed hand came up, flexing its metal fingers slowly, hesitantly. Another buzzing sound was heard, and its counterpart could now be seen. This was no hand, but a powerful gatling gun with four long barrels each the length of a man's forearm. Apart from those robotic attachments, the rest of his arms up to the shoulders were still intact, but they were now scarred and pitted, bulging with angry red and purple keloids. 

He looked down at his chest. Only a small portion of it was now made of skin and flesh. The damage that had been done to him had been so far – reaching, so absolute that almost all of his internal organs had been surgically removed and replaced by machines that hummed and beeped without ceasing. All of his daily needs were satisfied by a set of two small canisters mounted on his shoulders, one a miniature Mako reactor to power his life – support equipment, the other a container for nutrient fluid to sustain the parts of him that were still human. A third canister was mounted on the small of his back, containing his bodily wastes. A large metal plate now occupied what was once his abdomen, and a small instrument panel was mounted in the centre, having a small display screen to give readouts of his vital signs along with several push buttons that were supposed to regulate his equipment to give him 'maximum comfort'. Two 'wings', each containing a rocket pack and an antigravity device, had been installed behind his shoulders, and with a quick mental command to the systems that controlled his body functions, he could take to the air to surprise his would – be adversaries. Like a small fighter jet, several missiles had been attached to his 'wingtips', giving him the attack power of a squad of SOLDIERs. 

Humanity recovered itself below the waist, and from the metal chassis that contained his 'vitals' jutted out two raw and reddened legs, one of which had been spared the brunt of his injuries, and the other terminating at the kneecap. Another prosthetic device, large and three – toed, had been mounted over the latter, and he had to wear another one over his good leg so that he could balance himself. He could walk, he could run, and he could fly, and he was now certainly faster and more mobile than the average person, but now his movements would forever be accompanied by those whining whirring and clanking sounds of machinery that he detested so much.

At last he looked straight at the mirror, forcing himself to finish his visual inspection of this tortured body. His skull had been cracked open by the attack that had ended his natural life, and now he was wearing a pneumatically sealed helmet that covered what was left of his head to protect his brain from infection. A transparent triangular faceplate set into this shell was now his window to the world. Behind it, he was completely unrecognisable. He could not see anything but a bloody, jelly – like mass of muscle and blood vessels. His eyeballs, bereft of their sockets, were now pressed firmly against the glass plate, scanning the mirror fervently. That was the only thing left of his face. 

__

So… this monstrosity I see in the mirror was once the most handsome and desirable man on the Planet, the richest and most envied person in history… now I have nothing. I am not even a human being now. 

This is how far the New Age President Rufus Shinra has fallen.

It was a miracle that he had survived the blaze of destruction caused by Diamond Weapon, whose attack had obliterated the top storeys of Shinra Headquarters. He had been in a coma for three months, and when he awakened, he had discovered that he had become a walking collection of mechanical devices. And in the meantime, his enemies had grown strong, blindly assuming that "the whipper – snapper" who'd taken over his father's company at such a young age was dead and gone, that his empire was ripe for the taking! Those insolent fools. They did not know that he had been granted control over the Planet by right of succession, and now they had callously gone ahead to steal the world from underneath his nose. This was a truly unforgivable insult… and he promised himself that he would make them bleed. They would suffer for pressing his face into the dirt and kicking him when he was down… even as he was suffering now, smarting still with this stinging affront. 

He felt his muscles tense, his claw open and close, those two eyes bulge and redden, his machines whirring into overdrive whenever he thought of those usurpers to his power, those pathetic rebels who, if not for an unlucky chance, would have been ground under his heels by now. He had underestimated those eight terrorists, believed that those bandits who had dared to destroy his Mako reactors and foil his plans to harness the Promised Land's energy could not possibly survive his wrath, and he had lost his empire, his business and his Planet, his birthright, for that one costly mistake.

What were they doing now? They were even now enjoying the fruits of the victory that he promised himself he would personally turn to ashes. That disgruntled employee of his, the man whom Scarlet and Heidegger had warned him about, had profited a lot from his downfall. Now that Midgar was destroyed, that double agent was now leader of the township of Kalm, making it become larger and more prosperous than it once was. So that pompous city planner was trying to become a ruler too, draining away the profits that were rightfully Shinra and the President's? That snake with a goatee would have to be dragged unceremoniously to a "heart – to – heart talk" with him… and he would be shown the hand of Shinra justice. 

There was the man with a claw, that failed Turk, another of the mad scientist's more dangerous experiments let loose upon the world. Amazingly, the red – eyed demon was more sane and _human _than some of Hojo's Mako monsters, and now, even that genetic mutant was twice the man he was now. Vincent Valentine, too, had delusions of grandeur, and had taken control of that ghost town that no one had ever thought of any importance. The walking corpse would die a second time, once he'd allowed that weirdo to fully experience the agonies of a ghost in a titanium shell…

Speaking about scientific experiments, he'd heard that one more plaything of Hojo's was still at large… that strange lion creature that was dubbed "XIII" by the addlebrained professor. That research specimen had now appointed itself as the "guardian" of that hole called "Cosmo Canyon". His father had ignored that mountain colony at his own peril, for it was there that the rebel group Avalanche was formed and originally based. There was pure talent waiting there to be taken, and once that animal that pretended to be intelligent was taken out, he could blow up that little hidey – hole, stamp out the embers of resistance forever. He would make use of those eggheads silly enough to waste their time there. If they refused… _they_ would become theexhibits being studied. The rest would surely accept his generous terms. Oh, and that exotic creature's hide would make a tasteful welcome mat.

Wutai had been one of Shinra's many vassal states, and now with his apparent "death", the people in that backwater province had decided to break fealty with him, with that doddering old man Godo in the lead, and that hyperactive, wet – behind – the – ears teenager who still had her mother's smell on her. He would teach those foolish churls that to disobey the will of Shinra was to court destruction. Godo would be easy to take care of. That senile fool would die soon, and he wouldn't even have to lift a clawed finger to make it happen. It was the little chit of a girl that was dangerous, that young fry of treachery. As long as she survived, she would be a threat to his dominance. She would be terminated cruelly, painfully and publicly. 

And there was that pilot, that ingrate who had been living off his father's… no, his funds for many years for those failed projects. The Highwind, the Tiny Bronco, the Shinra No. 26 were all paid for using Shinra money, and that two – timing airman had repaid the company by stealing his airship at Junon and turning it into the rebels' base of operations. This lousy rogue would die broken and penniless. He would force the 'Captain', that self – proclaimed head of Rocket Town to watch that little settlement being torn apart, every girder and kitchen sink sold for scrap, every last resident sent into slavery to pay for all those acts of embezzlement. 

The terrorist who had started it all was also still alive. Once he had scoffed at the idea that this mere cripple could lead a revolt, poking fun at the man's gun – arm, but who was really disabled now? He had seen how that anarchist had personally torn down his Mako reactors piece by piece, destroying everything Shinra had stood for, guffawing happily while at the job of destroying his business empire. Now the founder of Avalanche had renounced all subversive activities and decided to live peacefully in Kalm with a little girl and a wretched old hag who was crying herself to death over that stupid Ancient. Shinra had put food on the table and gil into the pocket of Barret Wallace, but apparently the knave had forgotten. The cutthroat was thinking that the past could be left behind now that everything was over… that would be a fatal mistake he would exploit to the fullest. He had already decided that this failed coal miner would not fall in a blaze of gunfire from his gatling gun, but beneath it, bludgeoned to death.

Finally… there was the leader of that little party, the most dangerous one of them all… yet another of Hojo's little experiments gone wrong. If he had been President instead of that fat old man he never wanted to call his father, he would have shot the bumbling scientist long ago. Not only was this Cloud as strong and powerful as the great Sephiroth, but that SOLDIER – reject was charismatic and strong – willed, a natural leader and an obvious person to head a revolt against his rule. His first priority had been to track that man down, but it had been very hard indeed, as the former rank – and – file Shinra guard had become a wandering swordsman, along with that buxom female terrorist his silly guards still fantasised about. He knew that he could never have peace until Cloud Strife was removed permanently. There would be no other cocks in the yard except him. 

At last he was finally able to take the first step to right the terrible wrongs that had been done unto him. They would all die, as they were the ones that had most tenaciously resisted his rise to power. Only with them safely out of the way would he be able to become the undisputed ruler of the Planet again, owner of the largest company in the world, controller of the lives and deaths of every single human being and animal. 

As soon as Avalanche was crushed, the rest of his opponents would fall swiftly like dominoes. The people who populated this Planet, like the lowlifes of the Midgar slums, were all cowardly and weak – willed, and once their leaders were dead, when all voices of dissent were silenced, they would be wholly his to rule. They would not even complain. 

Once he was in power again, he would begin anew his New Age leadership with a vengeance. Any nation that had refused to embrace Shinra and Mako power would be destroyed without another thought. He would put to the torch every city, every town, every village that had chosen to abandon his regime, and he would give their women to his guards, and send their children to work in the reactors and power stations. Every last person who dared do as little as hesitate to follow his orders would be put to the sword. He would hunt down and kill every rebel one by one, and he would televise their dying agonies and their bloody faces worldwide, letting everyone on the Planet understand that whoever opposed him would die a slow and tortuous death, a death worthy of a traitor. He would use fear to rule the hearts and minds of the people. He wanted posters, newspapers, magazines, radio dramas, web sites, television programmes and films about the greatness of his rule and the complete and utter futility of any form of opposition. He would make the silent and dim – witted masses follow him, cower before him and revere him. The world had spurned him – and now he would let everybody feel his wrath anew. 

Rufus turned, and picked up a sheet of paper that had been left on his table only minutes before by a pitiful guard with a wet stain on his pants. They were frightened of him, scared stiff at the sight of his deformities, afraid that they would suffer a fate worse than death if they failed him. That was a good sign, and better things would come.

When he had finished reading the contents of the missive, he laughed for the first time since his wounding at the hands of Weapon, his voice synthesisers emitting a cold, hollow, monotone boom sanitised of all emotion. It seemed that Avalanche had decided to organise a little reunion in Kalm, and every member was already en route to attend that gathering. He had been prepared for a grueling and painstaking process to eliminate those rebels, but they had willingly set a trap for themselves. This time, he would give them no quarter. There would be no prisoners taken. 

He clenched his fist, watching with grim and morbid fascination as the paper was slowly crushed and compressed under his iron fist, like the people of this world that had risen up against him, its rightful ruler. Slowly and deliberately he increased the pressure, just as he would make the entire Planet's worth of cheaters pay him back, in full and with compounded interest. And when he finally relented, when he finally relinquished his grip, the A4 – sized paper dropped to the floor as quickly as a stone, no bigger than a pinhead. 

His thoughts suddenly fell apart in a blaze of searing pain. His vision blurred, and bright yellow stars appeared before him, fading in and out. Fortunately, the agony was brief, disappearing as quickly as it had started. He had suffered permanent brain damage as a result of his injuries, and now he was forced to suffer from those 'attacks' every now and then, and there was no way to prevent them. Another reason for him to seek revenge on the world. 

But this time the pain had jolted his ailing mind, providing him with a brainwave, an even more cunning plan. No. He was going about it the wrong way. It was better to capture all of them alive. They would serve a better purpose as part of his plans. He could keep them in his power forever, under his foot for all time. Those little insects were special indeed, useful in their own little way… 

He pressed a small communications button on his chest plate.

"Send Reno and the Turks to me."

"Y…Y… Yes S – Sir!" the blubbering voice complied even before Rufus had finished giving his command.

They would know fear. 

__

A/N: This is but a short "interlude" chapter before the next stage of the story, but it serves its little purpose well as a plot advancer. Ever liked the cartoon "Exosquad"? I got the idea of a cyborg Rufus from seeing Phaeton in a robotic suit. I hope my characterisation of Rufus comes out all right here, he always seems to be the arrogant sort, yet secretly burning with cold and calculated fury. Rufus fans, If you have tips on how I can improve Mr. Shin - Ra, I'll be willing to listen. I admit I've been lazy, and I haven't really done an in - depth character study on him.

Despite its brevity, I still had some technical difficulties cranking out this one. The word "he" at all times refers to Rufus, and I had to try to be a little creative with names and descriptions of the Avalanche characters in order to avoid confusion with that "he" word, otherwise there would be quite a bit of confusion as to which character is being referred to I guess. 

****

Now, my reviewers, thankfully you did not have to wait so long (or read so much) this time to reach this section… I have counted 32 reviews so far, thank you everyone!

__

To Crow T R0bot:

Hmmm… I guess I was being unintentionally ironic here. The Professor is referring to his past life on the Planet, of course, but even in heaven, he can't forget about the mistakes he committed. He tried to sweep them under the carpet too, but he couldn't run away from it at any rate. Who are the actors here? Sephiroth is obviously a screwed up guy behind that arrogant and confident façade of his, what about Aeris? 

I think I'll stick with Hojo as Sephy's dad, as per what I said earlier. Well… it's so darned unfortunate that you were affected by the mammoth blackout too. Is the power up already? Thankfully, I do not live in this area. I hate it when my air conditioning fails to function and when my fridge stops chilling my lard. I live outside the US (here's a hint: This country was once called "a little red dot").

Thanks for the hint about unblocking the review restrictions, I guess they wanted to protect users against anonymous flames, but (at least to me) I would consider the number of reviews received for a story a pretty good indicator of its popularity, so let's hope I see a hike in kudos soon!

Palmer… he probably retired after the rocket launch to refill his stores of lard (no doubt the impact of the truck must have caused some traumatic liposuction to occur). 

__

To Arcander:

Wow… you actually love mush! Then keep on reading! I like writing mush! Well, I guess that since Aeris is as sweet and forgiving as a goddess, it would be a given that she'd forgive him for his crimes, but I wouldn't let Sephy have it so easy in this story, eh? Aeris just does a better job of keeping it under the surface. She knows that he's innocent, and she certainly tries to cut him some slack, but she can't help but blame him just a bit for, erm, killing her. 

__

To Talon Dragonfriend:

Mmm… Sephiroth the psycho… I would say that he's too confused and he doesn't know what's right and what's wrong already, and he strives to find something to stand on, and he won't budge until he's really really sure that it's all right to take a leap of faith. Shows how truly warped my state of mind is=) 

Oh, and thanks for the kudos… I am an Aeris fanboy, after all, and I always wanted to write something nifty about her… Yay!

__

To Starling94: 

Relax, read the story, and why don't you let me take care of the criticism, hmm? This is part and parcel of writing, and a little negative criticism is always healthy. 

I love FFVIII too… you could place Cloud and Aeris in the lead characters' place and they wouldn't be OOC at all! "I'll be there… waiting for you…" is something Aeris would probably say, if only she'd said that to Cloud at the end, it would have made a real difference.

Man, I can't believe that you are referring me! bows This is too great an honour! I see some new faces already, hope I don't disappoint them!

__

To the Constructicons:

"CONSTRUCTICONS! Merge to form DEVASTATOR!"

The Transformers was one of my fave cartoons, along with Exosquad and Robotech. Devastator was darned cool, I say. 

It's nice to receive praise from even the bad guys! Good luck in your creative endeavours! And when all else fails, kill, crush and destroy! 

Oh… I will do my best not to disappoint you, of course, but I would not advise you to destroy my place of residence… or else I shall use this nifty device called the Robo - Smasher and turn you all back into goody - goody paragons of Autobot virtue!

__

To Starfall4790:

Here is another update for you! Now you shall see more of the plot! It's all right to be obsessive, just try not to be compulsive as well!

__

To DClick, Sekani, Aikaya, Epsilon, Avida et al:

Don't you think Sephiroth in Kingdom Hearts rocks? He looks way better than Cloud. The black - feathered wing suits him, but I think the bat wing is just as good, just make it a lot bigger that's all. 

It was so nice of Square to have Cloud and Aerith get together at the end of KH, giving them the chance they never had… I had this sick feeling that the flower girl would get killed somewhere along the way. See, it is "a love that _can _be" after all. But why would Square choose to call her Aerith instead of Aeris even in the English version? Is this to differentiate the Aerith of Hollow Bastion from the Aeris who died saving the Planet? In that case, why not call Sephiroth as, erm, (I'm not sure of his Japanese translation, sorry, but you get my point). Too bad that this is an AU, and that Aeris still remains dead in the original story, hence the need for all the heroes and heroines who champion the Aeris Resurrection cause!

Don't worry if you aren't too fond of your stories, the more you improve, the more you will feel proud of your work. I felt a bit like that when I placed the first few chapters on the site, now I'm trying to act shameless already. "Be strong".

Too bad I'm already occupied with this fic… "Save Aeris from the Shin - Ra Electric Power Company" is really too good an idea to turn down…

Take care, everybody! Don't fight for the beds!


	10. Chapter 10: Flowers Blooming in the Chu...

****

OF A PURE HEART, A FALLEN KNIGHT AND THE ONE – WINGED ANGELS

__

----------------------------------------- Disclaimer: ------------------------------------------

To the Reader and the Lawyers:

Final Fantasy VII, and all the characters, including Aeris and Sephiroth, Cloud, Tifa, Barret, Vincent, Yuffie, Red, Cid, Cait Sith (Reeve), Ifalna, Professor Gast, Lucrecia, Professor Hojo Frankenstein, Jenova the Mad, Rufus (any anyone I may have inadvertently missed out) are property of Square Enix Co, formerly Squaresoft LLC. Tell me if my disclaimer ain't good enough. I will reward you with a few thousand Chibi - Aeriths dosed to the nines with Hypers, and they shall hug you and squeeze you and kiss you and have a lot of fun with you (you know how… challenging Chibi - Aeriths are from the humour fanfics here). 

****

To other Fanfic Writers (This is more important!) Plagiarism Note:

There are a lot of Aeriseph fanfics around here. I've tried my best to stay as original as possible, but it's a bit hard to write this type of story without treading on someone's toes by accident along the line. Please, if you feel that I may have 'borrowed' some of your concepts or ideas by mistake, notify me immediately. **Email** a "cease and desist" message to me, point out where I have gone wrong, and I will act immediately to remove or modify the offending section(s). 

Thank you very, very much for your understanding and tolerance. 

OK, let's mosey, man!

--------------------------------------- End of Disclaimer: --------------------------------------- 

FLOWERS BLOOMING IN THE CHURCH

It was dawn already… so quickly?

Aeris opened her eyes to find herself kneeling amidst a small patch of flowers. They were not vibrant and colourful and lush like those she'd seen earlier, but they were brown and wilted and dying. This was no soft grassy field she was resting on, but dirty brown earth, uneven and hard – packed. 

She stood up, noticing a faint light filtering from above. The ceiling of the huge hall she was in had a huge hole from which she could see the morning sky, brilliant and blue. Turning around, she recognised at once the stained glass panels where she had run her fingers on lovingly, adoring the lovely portraits of angels and heavenly creatures. On both sides were the old wooden pews where she had sat on a long time ago with a tall and charming dark – haired man…

She was back in the old church at Sector 5, the place where she had led her life as a flower seller in the slums of Midgar. She smiled, as she was finally back in a place that she knew and loved, and this made her heart light and free. But still, she could not help but feel a little emptiness within herself, a pang of regret for what she had lost to come here…

She was alive again. 

The Cetra girl looked around the ruined chapel, but her companion was nowhere in sight. She shivered slightly, her hairs beginning to stand up a little. Why hadn't he come yet? Was he lost? Had he been attacked by monsters? Had an accident happened to him? She shook her head, urging herself not to worry too much. He was a strong and cunning warrior, and there was little that he could not possibly handle. Perhaps all she had to do was to wait for him. Meanwhile, there was something that she had to do, and it could not wait…

She returned to the flower patch in the middle of the aisle, and began to tend to her little charges again, and after more than a year of want and neglect, it was a miracle that they were still alive. Taking a rusty old spade that lay on the edge of the earth mound, she began to loosen the hardened, cracked soil, gently pulling away the weeds that had grown all over the little garden, burying the dead yellow stalks and leaves that lay everywhere. 

Even as she was tamping the soil around a little rose bush, she felt a small, sharp pain. Her eyes widened with slight disbelief. There was a small scratch on the back of her hand, and a single glistening drop of blood unwillingly emerged from the reddened, broken skin. So she was truly a mortal now, weak and vulnerable again. She looked behind her left shoulder. Her wing had disappeared. It was as if it had never existed at all. Her bleeding hand went to her breast, and she could feel and hear the slow beating of her heart, the ticking of the clock as her new life went by. She bit her lip, and stared at the ground. Her soul was no longer as free as air, and now it was confined and restrained in this prison of flesh and blood and bone. But she'd made that choice, and she was now alive, with all the cute things and the nitty – gritty bits that came with it, for better or worse.

Aeris sighed. She needed a pair of gloves. She got up, and walked to the room at the back of the church, hoping that the rest of her gardening supplies had not been stolen after she'd left. Fortunately, everything was intact, except for the fertiliser. The barrels that had once held the compost lay in twisted wooden and metal shapes all over the back room. She smiled again, recalling wistfully the day on which Cloud had rescued her from Reno and his Shinra guards. They had cornered her here, but the quick – thinking mercenary had tossed the barrels of fertiliser from the beams, giving her pursuers some nasty bumps on the head, allowing her to escape their grasp. She had promised him a date, and he had promised to become her bodyguard, and from there, their relationship had flourished… And the smile vanished from her face. These were just memories now. Things were different now…

Aeris left the room quickly, for it would only cause her more pain if she were to stay. She tore her mind away from the spiky – haired man, trying to think about her flowers instead. She needed some water to keep them alive, but where would she be able to get it? 

Her gaze strayed to one of the pews, the one closest to the flower patch. There was a small satchel resting on the wooden bench, and a long, slender rod was propped up against it.

She frowned, pursing her lips in surprise. This was her travelling bag that she had brought along during her adventures with Avalanche. The rod in question was her favourite, a staff called the Princess Guard, crafted many ages ago by the Cetra.

She went up to her satchel, opening it. All the supplies she had brought along to the City of the Ancients were there. There was a change of clothes, some food, a flask of water and a blanket. She checked her weapon and found that all its seven slots were loaded with gleaming materia orbs. There were some that she knew, like Lightning and Exit, and others that she did not recall possessing. She brought up her hand, and she realised that she was wearing her metal armlets, and they too had been equipped with materia. 

This was so strange… she distinctly recalled that her friends had stripped her corpse of all weapons and equipment before burying her in the lake. Cloud, being her faithful bodyguard even to the very last, had protested vehemently, nearly attacking Yuffie when she had taken but one step forward, but they had persuaded him eventually to relent. Not that she could possibly blame them either. Supplies were hard to come by, and there was obviously no way she could have used them. 

She checked her pockets, and not surprisingly, she still had her purse, and it was filled with gil, more than the little she had with her before leaving the group. Everything else she had carried on her person was also present, from her sewing kit to her hairbrush. Instinctively, her hand went to the back of her head, and she felt a comfortable, reassuring weight. Her heart beating faster, she pulled it off her ribbon, eager to see if her senses were deceiving her. It was a small stone the size of a marble, and it was as clear and round like a drop of dew, sending thin rays of colour everywhere like a small prism as it caught the morning light. 

It was the White Materia.

She had been sent back into the world to face hatred and hurt again, but her journey would be slightly smoother now that she had received a little helping hand from above. 

__

Thank you, Mother. 

The White Materia suddenly lost its glory, and she looked upwards to see a black shape blotting out the light, plunging straight down from the hole in the ceiling. An unbelievably long sword was held tightly in his hands. She could do nothing save stand transfixed in one horrifying moment, watching him descend with speed and effortlessness, swiftly and gracefully close the distance, coming closer and closer towards her… 

To land on the flowerbed just a foot away from her. His weapon was sheathed. Her shoulders sagged when she realised that this newcomer was not an enemy, at least, to her. 

Sephiroth had arrived.

He drew the Masamune, watching as the large sword slid freely from its oiled scabbard, eager to be wielded at last. The blade caught the sunlight, shooting a bright golden glare to any who dared defy its power. He was very surprised that he had awakened clutching his weapon. He had dropped it when Strife had killed him, and he thought that the puppet would have taken it as a grim trophy as was the wont of many mercenaries. He swung the sword, attempting to dispel the phantoms that were always lurking at the edge of his sanity. They did not fear him, but they would always be gone when the Masamune challenged the air, singing its lethal song. He observed, not with displeasure when he saw the Ancient step away hurriedly. Of course that coward did not want to have her tender flesh scratched again by his blade. His weapon was well – balanced and weightless despite its size, and he gave himself up to the rhythm of his swordplay, stepping from side to side, twirling the blade in tight and fast circles meant to deny his opponent advantage and to catch him off guard. And the Masamune responded instinctively to all his movements, no matter how slight, no matter how quick, no matter how demanding. This sword resembled the long – lost friend he knew and loved once…

But there was one last test of faith. Spotting a small plant next to him, he swung his sword and sliced it at the stem, sending a cloud of leaves and petals flying upwards like startled birds. His blade began to flow, demonstrating its true artistry, creating an invisible vortex of moving air that pulled the silver locks of his hair forwards towards it. And as the flower petals began their slow return to the ground, they _curled _around the sword, swirling around the cone of pure force that only the Masamune could control with its magic. 

Satisfied, he lowered his trusty sword, watching the petals touch the ground slowly, yet not a single one so much as grazed his weapon. This was indeed the Masamune, his closest companion, his one true friend in this world full of hate. Without thinking, he gripped the blade harder, holding it close to his heart, running his fingers over the cool, unyielding metal, tempered in spell – fire. It was then that he noticed the Cetra girl staring at him. 

"Eaygh! Mind the flowers!" She rushed up to the decapitated plant, but there was nothing she could do for it already. She looked upwards, fixing her gaze at him. Her eyes were bulging with wonder, yet her brows were knit with annoyance. 

"…They are just plants. Nothing more."

She shook her head, turning her attention to the other plants, checking to see if they had been hurt by his sword. Sephiroth snorted, wanting to laugh at her concern for those things that couldn't even feel a thing. He just couldn't believe that he had such a silly little creature as his commander…

He returned to admiring his sword. It had seemed ages since he had last seen it. The last time he had used it, it had been to… He preferred not to think about it. The Masamune was the one possession in this world that he had ever valued, far above all the gil and the finery he could have obtained as a SOLDIER general. Without it, he would have died many times over, and he would not be half the swordsman he was without it. He caressed the handle lovingly, feeling the reassuring roughness of the black dragonskin hide that was wrapped around it. And his gaze fell upon a single stone that was set into the pommel of the sword. Round as a teardrop and as small as a pebble, it was dark and unassuming, but as he looked harder at it, he found that he could not see beyond it, and he had the uncomfortable feeling that he was staring into the cold void of space itself. The light from above was much brighter now, as the morning went by, but this strange object reflected nothing, and indeed, it allowed no light to pass through its inky depths. 

He shuddered. This could only be the Black Materia, the very instrument he had used to summon the Meteor, the means by which he had tried to destroy the Planet. But why had it been returned to him now? Surely the Planet would not trust him with the Ultimate Destructive Magic again?

And if the Black Materia was his again…

He looked at Gainsborough, who was still looking after her little plants, humming a silly tune to them, blabbering uselessly in low tones to them. On top of her ribbon lay that horrible hair ornament, that accursed bauble that was the very instrument she had used to bring about his ultimate end… now everything was clear.

The Planet, even after giving him a 'second chance', had not forgiven him completely. The Black Materia would stay on his sword, mute testimony to his weak – mindedness and the hubris that had led to his end. Whenever that Cetra turned her head, he would see the White Materia, representing the transparency and purity that he could never have, but that ditzy girl had in plenty, symbol of the pain and the shame he had suffered in his life. The Planet did not trust him, and wanted to remind him unceasingly of his past, telling him what would happen to him again if he strayed from that little fiend's instructions. But if the Planet was trying to make him angry, trying to provoke him into going back to hell with this put – down, he would not lose his cool, not this time. He _would _follow that creature, no matter how much it annoyed him and rubbed against his pride. He would not be defeated, not by her. 

Sephiroth looked at the flowerbed again. It was then that she took a water bottle from her backpack, pulling off the stopper, shaking the contents all over her flowers, not stopping until the last drop had fallen out of the container. 

Now it was his turn to shake his head.

"… Foolish girl."

The Ancient waif stared at him questioningly.

"Do you realise know how precious water is, especially on a mission? A soldier soon learns to treasure every single drop, especially when he cannot hope to find a fountain every half – mile! You are stupid to waste it on frivolous things such as watering the plants. You should be thankful that you are not journeying through a desert or a waste, for you would certainly be dead by now."

The girl opened her mouth to protest, gesturing with a dirty hand towards her beloved flowers.

"I know… but look, the flowers are wilting… I just can't let them die! I'm not worried about something happening to me, but all I know is that someone has to water them, or they won't survive!"

Sephiroth snorted, turning away from her. Why did she hold those plants in such high regard? It would be no great tragedy if those flowers were to die, and no one would certainly mourn their loss. Yet she was treating them like human beings, going beneath her own dignity by soiling that pretty pink dress of hers, sacrificing her own personal comforts, and possibly her life for those deaf, uncaring, unfeeling things! She had her priorities all wrong. The young Cetra was naïve and stubborn, all right, and it would be pointless to argue further with her, especially since she wasn't terribly keen to accept the facts. It would be but a little while before she started to complain of thirst, and he would be the one laughing the longest.

More than a quarter of an hour passed, and he began to become restless. What was taking Gainsborough so long? He despised tardiness, and if she were one of the SOLDIERs he was leading, he would have sent her back to base as a private already. He tried to release his tension by pacing around the round patch of earth, tapping a booted foot on the tiled floor none too quietly.

"Just a moment more." It seemed that the Ancient wanted him to lose his patience. As much as he wanted to put the Masamune at her throat and demand that she give him her orders, he knew that it was but another test set by his enemy, and resolved not to give in. He sat down on a pew, and attempted to get comfortable. 

It seemed as if an eternity had passed him by before the Cetra was finished with her little lives. She stood up, brushing the dirt off her dress, announcing in her shrill and high voice, pasting that horrid grin on her face again. "I'm done!" 

He grunted. Now they could get about business at last. 

One of the plants suddenly caught his eye. That particular shrub was wilted, drooping and dying a few moments ago. But now… from the yellowed stem was growing a small green sliver that could only be the beginnings of a new leaf, and the flowering plant was now straight and turgid, bending itself slightly towards the source of light coming from the ceiling. That was so strange… no one could possibly effect such a marvelous turnaround in such a short time… but that girl had done it. And as he looked around the little garden, the other flowers were also beginning to bloom, and everywhere he could see a little hint of blue shyly coming out of nowhere, a small red bud blushing in the sun, a white blossom emerging from below him. Beauty surrounded him, and he cursed himself for a fool for not noticing it earlier. Perhaps that little Cetra had a good reason after all for taking care of those flowers… but now was not to time to reflect about it. He wanted his orders. 

"So… where to now, _Gainsborough?_" he asked with a sneer, waiting to hear and laugh at whatever sort of instructions that pint – sized gardener could possibly give. 

Aeris winced as he made fun of her name. He had taken great care to pronounce it with as hard and rough a sound as he could, stretching out every syllable slowly and mockingly. _Gains – bow – rough. _So he believed that she was merely trying to use him for her own gains. He thought that she would make him bow before her. He seemed so sure that she would treat him roughly. He was so wrong. Didn't he know that she wanted to be his friend? She sighed, reminded anew about the enormity of the task set for her. He was waiting for her to prove her worth to him.

She forced a little smile, leaning forward, clasping her hands behind her back. Perhaps he would feel less threatened if she tried to speak to him in as mild and sweet a tone as possible. 

"Do you think we should travel to Kalm, Sephiroth? I'd love to go there… Please?" 

The thin lips of the silver – haired SOLDIER opened slightly and his brows were raised out of its familiar wedge, puzzlement peeping through his usual mask of assertiveness and near – arrogance. 

"… As you wish." He took up his blade, turned and walked out through the open wooden doors without another word. Surprised at his quickness, the flower girl could only gather up her things hurriedly and break out into a dead run after him. 

Even though Meteor had been preventing from colliding with the Planet due to Holy and the Lifestream, Midgar had been totally devastated by the monstrous comet. A tremendous amount of heat had been generated upon the Meteor's re – entry from space, and many parts of the giant city were vapourised immediately, more quickly and more completely than a Mako reactor melting down. The speed of the juggernaut's fall to the Planet had caused a titanic gale stronger than a hundred tornadoes, tearing apart the Plate, flattening the slums and sending a cloud of debris spewing into the atmosphere that reached even North Corel, which was relatively far away, being on another continent. Only a small portion of the once great capital of the world still remained, and they were the only two beings still currently alive in this area. Not even the monsters had survived the destruction from the heavens.

Ever since leaving the church, they had come across nothing but haphazard piles of rubble and wreckage, and jagged girders and warped steel superstructures poked the sky at regular intervals, remnants of the Plate and the skyscrapers that had once adorned Midgar's skyline. The ground itself consisted of grainy rubble, and it was uneven and treacherous. 

Several times Aeris lost her footing, and she had fallen heavily onto the sharp and rough debris that littered the entire cityscape. She was covered from head to toe with all manner of cuts and abrasions by the time they reached the twisted array of metal sheets that marked the once impassable walls of Midgar. 

Sephiroth, however, was unaffected by the inhospitable terrain, moving with catlike grace, every step sure and steady. He had reached the city limits long before her, and he stood to watch with slight amusement as Gainsborough slowly and daintily made her way across all the bumps and sinkholes in front of her. She had one last low ledge to cross before she reached the walls, and she closed her eyes before jumping forward. The shaky ground gave way the moment it came into contact with her foot, and she slipped and ended up landing on her derriere. He could not help but smirk as she got up uncertainly, shaking her head groggily and dusting herself. Satisfied that the girl had (finally) caught up with him, he stepped off the last mound of debris, and onto terra firma, continuing his trek to Kalm. 

He had walked for about a quarter of an hour before he decided to look over his shoulder to find out how Gainsborough was doing. She was at least a few hundred metres behind him, and he could hear her cry faintly, pleading with him to stop. 

Had Sephiroth worn a watch, he would have duly noted that it took another five minutes for her to reach him. When she arrived at last, she was panting loudly, her breathing quick and shallow, her face reddened, blinking rapidly as the sweat poured into her eyes. She would have collapsed if she hadn't been leaning on the Princess Guard for support. 

"Puff… wheeze… can we rest?" she managed to gasp eventually. 

"… Whatever." 

That weakling. They had but covered one mile, and she was acting as if she'd just run a marathon. 

Aeris slumped onto the ground, resisting the urge to curl up and sleep away her exhaustion. She wiped the perspiration off her brow, peeling away the bangs that were gummed to her face. She looked at the black – cloaked swordsman, who was even now glaring at her, his arms folded, waiting for her to catch her breath. She had the uncomfortable feeling of _déjà vu; _the way Sephiroth had entered her new life, by falling through the hole in the roof of the church, the way the white – haired warrior had led the way, waiting impatiently for her to catch up with him, reminded her so much of her first meeting with her bodyguard. She remembered her first impressions of him; he was handsome and brave, no doubt, but he had been cold, monosyllabic and mean. But underneath his nonchalant exterior, he was gallant and passionate. Cloud had been indifferent to her at the start, but he had warmed to her eventually. 

But Sephiroth… he still treated her as his enemy, travelling with her only out of sheer necessity, and he had been nothing but sarcastic and uncaring, laughing at her mistakes and inadequacies, trying to break her heart every step of the way. But still… the silver – haired man didn't look too bad himself, if only he could drop that haughty, condescending mask of his. She remembered how Sephiroth had promised her mother and father to go with her, and she knew that he too could be noble, he too could be generous… if he wanted to. But he hated her with a passion, and how in heaven's name would she be able to change his mindset this time? Everything seemed so similar now, yet so different, and so much more difficult. 

"If you are quite finished?" she heard his deep voice, rumbling with restlessness.

She sighed (how many times had she done that today?) and got up slowly, trying hard to ignore her aching limbs. The history book on the shelf was always repeating itself, it seemed.

They had gone on for only several minutes before they had their first encounter with the enemy. The monsters they were facing were Custom Sweepers, Shinra security robots that had proved defective. They had been released into the hinterlands outside Midgar where no sane man would normally venture into on foot.

The Sweeper was a ranged attacker, being armed with missile launchers and machine guns, and Sephiroth quickly closed in on the first one, eager to deny it any strategic advantages its ranged capabilities offered it. His blade moved as quickly as his mind, his materia giving him preternatural swiftness as he struck the Sweeper four times in rapid succession, one blow to each of its legs and one blow to each of its two gun – arms. The mechanical monster, knocked off balance by his sudden attack, tumbled to the ground, right at his feet. He raised the Masamune, and brought it down with speed and strength on the robot's head, where the central processing unit lay. There was a shower of sparks, and chips and circuit boards flew heavenwards. The Sweeper shuddered, and lay still, the fight taken out of it permanently.

Sephiroth turned to look at the second Sweeper, curious to see how Gainsborough was dealing with it. Fortunately for her, she wasn't totally brainless in combat. Her rod lay suspended horizontally in the air and a green circle of light flared about her as she prepared to cast an offensive spell. There was a flash, and a silver lance shot out of the blue with a crack like gunfire, blasting a huge mass of molten metal debris from the Shinra machine. The Sweeper crackled and bristled with electricity. Unable to cope with the massive power overload caused by the Bolt 3 spell, the robot careened over to one side, clattering heavily on the ground, falling still.

The battle was over. He afforded himself the quick conceit of a small smile. He had not lost his touch, even after spending so long in the Northern Crater and the Lifestream. He swung his blade in a graceful arc, from left to right, to celebrate his victory.

He looked at Gainsborough, and to his surprise, he found her… dusting off her dress and her jacket, checking to see that her bangs were in place, and patting her chest in relief! He sighed. She was such a wuss! And he wondered again how that wimpish bimbo had managed to defeat him. But he recalled his very first lesson as a SOLDIER and an officer; never underestimate your enemy. She was slight and frail, no doubt. His Masamune had torn the life out of her soft flesh so easily, but that had been his fatal mistake. By dissolving the chains that had kept her soul locked in this corporeal form, he had liberated her spirit. Free of its mortal encumbrances, she had been able to use her powers to the most devastating extent, summoning the Ultimate White Magic and the Lifestream to defeat him…

Her spirit was strong, stronger than even his, he had to concede, albeit reluctantly. Her will was indomitable. Those green eyes sparkled still, glowing with magic far more profound and far more powerful than any materia he'd ever seen. Despite her outward appearance, she was a worthy adversary indeed. She had been the only person with the power to defeat… and control him.

"What's wrong?" The Cetra girl had stepped up towards him, examining him closely, "Are you injured?" she asked gently. 

He stopped, unable to speak. No one had ever asked him whether he had been hurt before. Everyone had known that he was the great General Sephiroth, the very man who could defeat an entire battalion without breaking out into a sweat. He _did not _get injured. He was too good for that. Was she trying to mock him, remind him that he was at her complete mercy, in her servitude? No! Even if he were bleeding from every pore, dying before her, he wouldn't let her help him, for she would think that he couldn't even take care of himself! He wouldn't let that silly airhead enjoy that final little triumph!

"N – No, I – I am fine!" he stuttered involuntarily, ignoring the startled look on the flower girl's face. He tore himself away from her gaze, and hurriedly resumed the long trek towards Kalm.

__

A/N: See how uncreative I am. Aeris finds herself in the Sector 5 Church again… at least Reno doesn't ambush her again=)… but don't you like making interesting little parallels? Let the Aeris - Sephiroth conflict begin!

I twisted the legend of the Masamune a little bit. I cannot remember exactly how the story went, but if memory serves me correctly, when the sword was forged, it was immersed in water, and the leaves in the pool curled around it, rather than get cut up by its sister sword, the Murasame. The Masamune was judged to be the better sword because of this. Too bad Aeris' flowers had to die to prove my point!

Note that the name "Gainsborough" is normally read as "Gains - brrrr" (I think), but I like to pronounce some words in the way they are spelt out (for example, the word "envelope" ("on-velope") would become "en - velope".) Here, Sephy deliberately mispronounces her name to cheese her off. 

Hope you like the famous Squall catchphrase I inserted here. I couldn't resist, you see. 

BTW… To those who require some action scenes to liven up your day: you will be rewarded in the next chapter.

Now… time for **your** section!

__

To Homunculus:

Thanks for the review, better late than never, right? 

Tifa and Sephy? I really don't know about this pairing, it's very unconventional, maybe someone will do it one day. So… what do you think about an Aeris / Cid relationship? Sounds challenging.

Don't be so mean to Cloud, I would say that he blew his chance with Aeris, then he blew his chance with Tifa, but now he's been given a second chance with Aeris, so I hope he sets things right this time! Rumour has it that KH2 may also feature Cloud and Aeris, and will focus more on their dark past. I even heard a suggestion that Sephiroth is Riku's father! It was a pity that you could fight every member of the FFVII cast in KH except Aerith and Cid… it would be nice to see the flower lady in action!

Rufus, Rufus, Rufus… how shall I portray him as a bad guy… hmmmm….

__

To Crow T R0bot:

Yes… the possibilities are limitless indeed… even I haven't sorted them all out yet.

Now that the review block is down… the results are already coming in… thank you!

Oh, and about Professor Frankenstein… there are no plans for him to make an appearance… I quote imperfectly Nomura - san: "this would require the development cycle of a regular Final Fantasy game, because we will have to start from scratch with the game engine", and so on and so forth… I just wish they'd produce Final Fantasy VII-2, and bring Aeris back during the course of the game. Sigh.

__

To Starling94:

Don't you think Sephy would be another good choice to take up Squall's role? He's quite a bit like Leon too. And I would think that he has more similarities with Cloud than most people would like to concede… 

Let's see: an FFVII / VIII crossover with Squall taking over Cloud's role, Rinoa taking over Aeris' role, and vice versa. Quite promising; I can't wait to see how Squall goes on a date with Rinoa, and wouldn't it be great to see Aeris sitting in Cloud's lap in the Ragnarok while "Eyes On Me" plays? Tell me when you've posted it up!

__

To DClick:

What would happen if there were 6 DClicks? There would be 6 Aikayas, 6 Epsilons, 6 Avidas, 6 Sekanis and 6 Hazes. Which makes for 36 people in all. Not scary at all, in fact, it would be very good to add to my review total.=)

In an interview, Tetsuya Nomura was asked whether the "something" Cloud was searching for was actually Aerith, and basically he tried to skirt the issue. He said something to the effect that he would leave it to the gamer to decide, since Cloud is a very popular character and that the viewer would be able to form "strong impressions" about this scene. Which I would believe (no offence to Tifa fans) would translate to a "Yes" answer (what other conclusion could be implied from this? He has to be diplomatic in this situation.) I would also think that the Cloud / Aeris pairing would probably be the very best among all the possible matches Aeris would have (Ironically enough, I'm making a case for Sephy by writing this story!)

Don't worry about writer's block, if it is of some consolation to you, I have been stuck right in the middle of it for a week already with no sign of it wearing off… you've got the idea right here, but you just can't put it on the screen… damn it… I'm sure you'll regain your touch, just hope I make a speedy enough recovery.

__

To DemonStarGuard2:

Thanks for the clarification, I took a look at an old Japanese guidebook on FFVII and they indicated Aeris' name in Japanese characters, and there it was, its English translation - "Aerith Gainsborough". Which makes me wonder why they changed the name in the first place.

To Starfall4790:

I hope I'm not getting Rufus OOC, but he always said that he wanted to rule the world by fear… I'm just taking it one step further. He's back, and he's badder than ever.

Yes, people are evil for a reason. But then again, to twist Zidane's famous line, "You don't need a reason to be evil", either. 

Interesting that you thought of the last line as a cliffhanger… I never intended it that way. It was a catchphrase from the computer game "Tiberian Sun", where a super - powerful unit that you can control says this whenever you order him to attack a target. It just sounded cool, so I slotted it in. Originally it was placed in the middle of the chapter, but I ran out of nifty little lines to place at the back, so it became the chapter ender. At least it worked out well!

Just a little spoiler - the next chapter _will _end on a cliffhanger…

__

To the Constructicons:

Yeah man… it would be cute to see you guys chew bubble gum… just try not to kick my @#*… 

"It's time to kick ass and chew bubble gum" was immortalised in Duke Nukem 3D. He also spoke something equally cool: "No one touches our babes… and lives!" For FFVII I propose a different take on this phrase: "No one kills our flower girls… and lives!" Too bad Sephy messed with the wrong girl…

__

To Alx 91:

Not bad! My first anonymous reviewer! A good fanfic can definitely cheer you up no end, glad that it became your bday prezzie! Hope that this fic will keep you entertained till your next birthday =)

While Aeris and Sephiroth are in a sense, "angels" sent down from heaven (and up from hell) to earth, it might comfort you to know that they are more human beings than infallible celestial entities. 

Ah… when will I see the icing on the cake…


	11. Chapter 11: Labours of Love

****

OF A PURE HEART, A FALLEN KNIGHT AND THE ONE – WINGED ANGELS

__

----------------------------------------- Disclaimer: ------------------------------------------

To the Reader and the Lawyers:

Final Fantasy VII, and all the characters, including Aeris and Sephiroth, Cloud, Tifa, Barret, Vincent, Yuffie, Red, Cid, Cait Sith (Reeve), Ifalna, Professor Gast, Lucrecia, Professor Hojo Frankenstein, Jenova the Mad, Rufus (any anyone I may have inadvertently missed out) are property of Square Enix Co, formerly Squaresoft LLC. Tell me if my disclaimer ain't good enough. I will reward you with a few thousand Chibi - Aeriths dosed to the nines with Hypers, and they shall hug you and squeeze you and kiss you and have a lot of fun with you (you know how… challenging Chibi - Aeriths are from the humour fanfics here). 

****

To other Fanfic Writers (This is more important!) Plagiarism Note:

There are a lot of Aeriseph fanfics around here. I've tried my best to stay as original as possible, but it's a bit hard to write this type of story without treading on someone's toes by accident along the line. Please, if you feel that I may have 'borrowed' some of your concepts or ideas by mistake, notify me immediately. **Email** a "cease and desist" message to me, point out where I have gone wrong, and I will act immediately to remove or modify the offending section(s). 

Thank you very, very much for your understanding and tolerance. 

We ain't doin' nothing sitting around here readin' this, let's get to it!

--------------------------------------- End of Disclaimer: --------------------------------------- 

LABOURS OF LOVE 

What was the time now? The sun had just come up, but still the room seemed so grey and dark. Her little girl had left her, gone to enjoy herself, and now that her playful laughter and the patter of her small feet were all gone, she could not hear a sound. She was alone in the house again. She was all by herself again.

She sat on the bed, feeling more and more unwilling to get up each day. How many times had she been marooned like this, left to her own island, left to live on her own? Her husband had left her, gone to fight for Shinra, gone to heed a higher call. Every day she had written a letter to him, begging him to come back at the first opportunity, asking him not to leave her like this. She had been so happy when he announced at last that he'd been given home leave, and every day she had waited at the Midgar train station, praying that she would see her husband waving from the first morning train, the only one that held SOLDIERs returning from battle. But still he did not come back. Every day she had seen so many happy and smiling faces as the gaunt and tired warriors were embraced by their lovers and children, their long and harrowing wait bearing fruit at last. She had seen hundreds of them alight each day, so many of them, but why was it that her husband was never among them? Every day she had cried, the tearful reunions driving her to tears, the irony of it all making her more and more depressed every hour. 

Until she saw that someone else was crying. That little girl. While she still could hold a faint and distant hope that her husband would return some day, the child was so much more unfortunate. The girl's mother had crawled towards her with torn hands and feet, covered with blood, pleading with her dying breath, asking her to take care of the child. She had accepted the poor dead lady's request, for she was in pain, and the girl was in pain too. If she were to live alone any longer, she would surely go mad, and she needed someone to give her life purpose, to keep her whole, at least for a little while longer. And the girl was… special. How could she resist those huge puppy dog eyes? That large toothless grin that spread from ear to ear when she had said "yes"? The way the youngster ran circles around her, bouncing up and down with joy? She was sweeter and cuter than a doll, and she had not known a livelier and happier person ever since she'd taken in this little girl at the train station.

How she had mourned when she had seen a young man aged by the war appear at the doorstep, that grim SOLDIER officer entrusted with the solemn duty of breaking the sad news that her husband had died on the day the war ended. But that girl had given her a reason to keep on living, and she had almost literally lit up her life. She was so happy and so proud to see that sprightly, willowy child grow up to become a refined and enchanting young woman. And still the girl had not lost those endearing mannerisms, the fascination with life that made her so childlike. She had been so sad when her adopted daughter was stricken with wanderlust, leaving the nest, going out with her friends into the great wide world beyond, as she would be left alone again. Now that she was gone for good, she had been thrown back onto that same island, left to mourn the loss of that tinkling laughter, that musical voice, that heartening smile. True, she liked Marlene, as she was obedient, lively and a bit playful, just like any little girl her age. But she knew now that no matter how many daughters she took in, none could fill the vacuum in her life, replace the little angel she'd known and loved, for Aeris was unique in her own little way. 

Elmyra brushed away the tears that were coming to her again, determined to forget about it for just a minute. She still had the household chores to do. She pressed her spectacles back up onto her nose, trying to keep on walking in the dark blur of the early morning. 

She managed to find her way to Marlene's room. Barret's daughter had woken up late today, and she had gone off to school in a hurry. She sighed, expecting to see the whole room in a mess, the sheets draped carelessly over the bed, piles of clothes lying everywhere, the girl's textbooks waiting patiently on the floor to trip her up. 

But the room was spick and span, and such good order that a guest could just drop in and feel at home straight away. The bed was already made, the coverlet was neatly drawn over the blankets, and the pillow had been well fluffed. The pillowcase and bedsheet were fresh and crisp, newly changed. The floor was clean and free of dust, even though she hadn't swept it for a few days. Marlene's books lay in one orderly pile on her study table, which was also now spotless. The girl's home clothes were nowhere in sight, and her favourite toy, a plush cactuar, was propped up on the chair beside the table. This was so strange. Marlene had always cleaned up her own room regularly, but she was never able to bring such order to it. Perhaps the girl had tidied up the place last night. At least that was one less task for her to do… but that gave her more time to think about other things…

It was then that a familiar fragrance caught her attention, causing her vision to blur. Even after her daughter's death, the lovely smell had lingered throughout her old house, and even here, the wind brought it in once in a while. But now, it was stronger and more persistent, as if… she was standing in the presence of the girl's shade, as the blond man had claimed to have seen once when he had visited the church. She saw one small bottle on Marlene's bedside table, and it was filled with… flowers. There was another on the desk, and one more sitting on the windowseat. This was so peculiar. No one else had ever done that except…

She closed the door. There was no use dwelling on the past. Aeris was gone, no matter how much she wished it was not so. She was deluding herself. But still the wonderful smells of rosemary, sage and thyme filled the air, reminding her of the loveliness she had lost a long time ago. She sniffed. When she had forbidden her tears to flow down her cheeks, they had defied her and now they were slowly dripping from her nose, demanding to be heard and felt. 

Slowly she shuffled down the stairs, trying to walk through the haze that was blinding her. The remnants of Marlene's breakfast had not been cleared yet, she told herself. The dishes had not been washed. The laundry was still in the basket. And she hadn't eaten yet. 

But the kitchen table was clean and spotless. The cereal bowl and the glass the little girl had used were hanging from the hooks over the sink, not a drop of water falling from them. The large wicker bin had been half empty ever since Aeris had left her, but now there was nothing in it at all. She looked out of the window, and saw her clothes hanging out to dry on the rack, all turned inside out and properly spaced out. The sun was making its way upwards at last, and the rays of light were brightening up the place a little, and everything she saw was given a faint orange golden tint, the dust and the mist dancing slowly in mid – air. It was still so early in the morning, but her dear daughter had always gotten up before her, making sure that she had nothing to do in the morning. And still she smelled the floral fragrance. A nice blue vase was placed in the centre of the dining table, and several large orange blossoms were drooping from its delicate fluted lips. But now… she smelt something different mixing in the air… it was nutritious and satisfying. She saw a small plate on the table, a spoon placed next to it. Two golden brown slices of bread lay on it, a generous helping of marmalade heaped onto them. In a small holder was an egg, the tip of its shell removed, and the white goodness within was soft and liquid. A large mug of piping hot black coffee completed the picture. Her breakfast was ready, but no one had ever cooked for her, not since…

She closed her eyes, shaking her head, pinching herself with as much force as those old aching limbs could muster, and the mist and the tears were gone. But everything was still there. The dishes were still hanging to dry, the clothes were still waiting for the sun to shine over them, and her breakfast was still on the table. The smell of flowers and cooked food still filled her senses. This didn't seem real at all. She couldn't make sense of all this. 

Her daughter…?

She turned as she heard a sound coming from above. She was not alone. Was it an intruder? Someone was walking down the stairs, but she didn't feel worried at all, for the soft but confident steps were all too familiar to her, for she'd heard it for over sixteen years…

Coming down the stairs… was her long – lost daughter. Her little angel in pink.

"Aeris… my daughter…"

"MOM!"

Elmyra fell backwards, dizzy at the sight of the apparition running towards her, but she did not hit the ground as she felt those warm and delicate hands catch her, helping her to her feet. The ground still swayed slightly beneath her as she was settled down at the dining table, right in front of her breakfast.

"My sweet child… my pretty angel… I must be in heaven now…"

"Oh no, no, no, Mom, I'm here. Really! I'm right in front of you, see?" The Cetra girl appeared before her. She came closer, tilting her head to the side, looking straight at her the way she always did. Those huge sparkling eyes, that large smile that always lit up her face… She was perfect to the last detail. 

"Aeris… I can't believe this… but… thank you for coming back…" The vision of her daughter disappeared, clouded over completely by her tears, but she felt something soft and smooth dabbing her eyes, and when she could see again, the girl was still looking at her.

Elmyra pulled the girl forward, wrapping her arms around those small shoulders, smelling the fragrance of the flower girl's neatly braided hair, taking in her warmth and her beautiful, silky touch. The girl tittered with joy, and soon she found herself laughing for the first time since the Turks had knocked on the door, demanding that Aeris leave with them in exchange for her little friend. That was the last time she had seen her daughter, and she had never smiled since that day…

"You were so sad, Mom… I couldn't bear to leave you alone like that… and I still have much to do. People to help." 

Aeris firmly placed her on the chair, pushing the plate full of toast in front of her. 

"Come on, Mom, don't you like my cooking? Let me take care of you, all right?" 

Since that day, Elmyra had eaten only to live, only because it gave her the strength to carry on living those dreary days without her daughter's smile. But now, every bite she took was new and delicious, filling and satisfying. The salt had come back into her life. It was but a short while before she had finished her breakfast, and before she knew it, Aeris had already whisked the crockery away, washing the dishes quickly and soundlessly.

Elmyra rested at a small table in the hall, watching the house tidy itself up as her adopted daughter flitted in and out of sight, banishing the dust from every corner, opening the windows, drawing the curtains, brightening up the house. More pots and bottles and jars appeared seemingly out of nowhere, and soon the flowers were in full bloom in her house again. Even though Kalm was grey and blue and sombre, the house was now bright and beige and sunny. It seemed so amazing, how much one single person could change everything so much, make her life become so much more beautiful. She just sat stupefied, still not able to believe that Aeris had returned. 

She heard a short sharp rapping. Who could it be so early in the morning? Elmyra hobbled towards the door, turning the handle slowly with an old arthritic hand. 

She stepped backwards, mouth open in a horrified shriek. 

It was that same SOLDIER officer from so long ago. He had been the bringer of bad tidings, notifying her of her husband's death. He had wished an even worse fate upon her, being the cause of her daughter's death. Now that Aeris was back, he had returned to take her away again.

"Aeris! It's him! Run, fast!" The dame scuttled away towards the kitchen, shivering with horror.

The Ancient quickly put down the flower vase she was holding, stepping towards the door, opening it wider to let Sephiroth enter. 

"Don't worry, Mom, Sephiroth won't hurt us, he's travelling with me now," she assured her foster mother. 

Elmyra emerged, grasping a chef's knife in her hand. "You! You've brought nothing but death and suffering upon us! Go on! Get out of here!"

"No!" Aeris screamed, but the old lady hurled the cleaver at the large warrior. There was a flash of steel as the blade hurtled in the air, spinning in a fast and ferocious arc. Sephiroth did not bat an eye, but calmly stretched out his hand, catching the deadly object by the handle as deftly as if it had been a child's ball. He released it, letting it clatter loudly on the parquet floor. 

"Thank you… Gainsbo_rough_." He stalked away, his silver hair glinting fiercely like fire. 

"Mom! You needn't have done that! There's nothing wrong with him! Sephiroth, please wait! Wait! Wait! Wait!" She ran to the door, but her mother was quicker, and she felt herself restrained by two old but strong arms. 

"Please don't leave me, Aeris… don't run away like that again…" Elmyra's grip suddenly weakened, and she slumped onto the chair she had been sitting on previously, covering her face, weeping softly. Again she felt her daughter dry her eyes, and her hands were gently held by the reassuring warm touch. 

"It's okay, Mom… everything's fine now, I'm here…" Elmyra could not help but feel gladdened by those simple words. She could never get accustomed to those rich melodious tones. The girl's voice never lost their wondrous qualities, soothing every tense muscle, calming her fevered spirit. 

She embraced Aeris again, desperately hoping that she wouldn't go away again. 

"Aeris… I'm sorry. I don't want to lose you again… you don't know how sad I was when he told me you were dead… I felt so helpless… I was your mother, yet I couldn't do anything to protect you… I just don't want any more trouble to come to you. I don't know what I'll do if anything happens to you… Please, Aeris… please stay."

The girl just kept smiling at her. It seemed that all the world's worries could never dampen the trust and confidence she always kept in life. Elmyra secretly thanked the unfortunate lady who had given this bundle of joy to her. Aeris could comfort a person by her mere presence. Now that she was here, it was as if a new sun had taken up residence in this dreary place. 

The girl winked at her. "I know how you feel, Mom… don't you dare shed a tear for me, for I'll be safe. I'll be out for just a while, I'm going to bring Sephiroth back. He may be a bit cold, but I'm sure he's a good guy, and I want him to be our friend. Just relax, Mom. I'll be back with you very soon, and that's a promise I intend to keep." She slowly let go of the old dame, waving to her mother before slipping on her boots and stepping out of the house. 

Elmyra sighed, and she could not guard against another bout of tears as all of her old fears struck her again many times more intensely, and this time the flower lady was not around to give her succor. Aeris was always getting herself into trouble trying to help other people. She was very, very nice… too nice for her own good perhaps. 

*****

Sephiroth slowly walked down the quiet streets of Kalm, hands in his pockets, not caring about the narrow – eyed looks the villagers shot at him. He knew that he was an outsider, that he was not welcome in this little town. Gainsborough had instructed him to step into her house, and he had grudgingly complied, entering the den of the lion to be greeted by a mad woman with a knife. What was that girl trying to do? Get him killed? He really didn't want to put up with all this nonsense, but orders were orders, and like it or not, he had no choice to obey. 

On and on he went, not having a destination in mind, just hoping to get away from those accusing eyes which followed him wherever he went. He just wanted to be alone, to find a place far from humanity, where his inner demons could not haunt him. But he would be denied even that small luxury with that Gainsborough clinging forever onto his coat – tails. She would be out very soon, and he wanted to find a place to hide for a while. 

It was then that he felt someone tap his shoulder none too lightly. He turned, and found himself staring face to face with a man with a somewhat radical hairstyle, with short blond tufts that stuck up in every possible direction. Those royal blue eyes were constricted, and he could see the blood vessels becoming more and more prominent in the whites of those eyes, which were glowing harshly with green fire. The rough, but charming features of this man were at this moment hardened and locked into what could only be called an expression of pure fury, and his thin lips were drawn back, exposing his gritted white teeth. 

"We meet again, Strife," the silver – haired swordsman identified the vision of vengeance before him. The past always seemed to be lurking around every corner, waiting to pop out behind him to deny him even a second's solace. 

"It's you… Sephiroth… I thought I had banished you into the darkness… you murderer… you killed her…" The large fists clenched and relaxed involuntarily, and he could see veins struggling to make themselves known on those muscular arms. 

"So… you wish to seek revenge for your woman again, I suppose?"

"Her name, Sephiroth… was Aeris. My mother, Tifa's father, the people of my town… you killed all of them. I don't know how or why you've returned, but if I have to send you back to hell a second time… I will gladly do so." Strife's hand reached over his shoulder, tightly fingering the hilt of the large sword that lay strapped behind his back. 

Sephiroth smirked. A golden opportunity had fallen into his hands. One of the monsters that had been haunting him had finally manifested itself. But now he could fight back, deal with this one in the way he knew best. Strife was but another demon waiting to be exorcised. And perhaps when all of them were gone… he would know peace at last… 

"Very well. You shall see that I will awaken when this is over." He cast a quick glance at his surroundings, and he found those accusing eyes glaring at him again, and he knew that he could not commit that same mistake again. "Come, let us settle this outside," he intoned the classic phrase that was always a prelude to a duel. 

Cloud watched the tall warrior turn and head towards the entrance of the town. For a second his anger was forgotten, and he scratched his head in puzzlement. Sephiroth had never shown any regard for human life, not after he had gone mad at the Nibel Reactor. Now he was trying to minimise the potential for collateral damage. He sounded more calm and collected, and seemed almost happy to accept his challenge. And what _was _he talking about anyway? But he could ponder over his adversary's odd behaviour later… when he'd defeated that villain. 

They came to a small, dusty clearing a short distance from the village, the edges of this circular plain ringed by jagged stones the height of a man. The ground was grey and rocky, and several dead trees stood at the sides, the life long gone from it thanks to the Mako reactors. While the sun had shone brightly only minutes before, now several clouds were slowly creeping forward to muffle the light, turning everything as dark and grey as the barren lands below them, and the long stones began to cast their shadows upon the two knights about to begin their contest. The stage was set. 

Cloud unsheathed his sword. His trusty weapon, the Buster Sword, had broken in two at the moment of his lover's death, the faithful steel sharing its master's grief. Now he wielded the Ultima Weapon, a shimmering blade made of a translucent silvery metal, and the fuller was made of two concentric wedges of a rigid purple and pink material. The sword had not been forged by human hands, but had been wielded by a monster bearing the same name, awakened by the Planet when Meteor had been summoned. Cloud raised his blade, placing one foot forward, gripping the handle with both hands, ready to strike.

Sephiroth had not been carrying the Masamune when Strife had confronted him, but now he found that his ever loyal _no – dachi_ had appeared in his hand, arriving to assist him in battle. The black lacquered scabbard slipped free of the blade almost of its own volition, vanishing once the long blade had been fully drawn. He settled into his fighting stance, both legs apart, the tip of his weapon pointing downwards at the ready, and he stretched out his arm, making a cupping gesture with his free hand, signaling to his opponent that he was ready and eager to commence combat. 

"When you left me at Nibelheim, you were but the learner… now let us see whether you have become the master… or if you are still the puppet."

Cloud quickly obliged, seizing the advantage, rushing forward to land the first decisive blow, bringing all his strength and the momentum of his fierce charge to bear. The Ultima Weapon came fiercely down, but with a flicker of movement, the iridescent blade was met by the tempered steel of the Masamune amidst a shower of hot white sparks. The knight in black stood still, not moving half an inch despite the force of the younger man's attack, and he stepped forward, quickly executing a flurry of light and swift blows that sent the blond warrior on the defensive. Cloud eventually managed to beat back Sephiroth's counterattack, and he twisted his weapon to the side and launched himself forward, his broadsword swinging back to the front to land a hard chop to his opponent's torso. But that was quickly parried too, and the ex – villain gave no ground. 

This was a classic clash of cultures and generations, with Cloud using the "strong" style of swordsmanship favoured by many men his age. His techniques relied heavily on his abilities as a spry and strong young man, and he put every bit of force and fury into each slow but sure strike to inflict a crippling blow that the enemy could not possibly withstand. Sephiroth, having learned from the oldest and best Wutaian masters and martial arts exponents, preferred to be fast and calculating with his swordplay, quietly and quickly countering all of his adversary's moves, and when Strife was recovering from every hard swing at him, he would exploit the opening to attack the puppet without hesitation. But in the end what counted was experience and perseverance, and soon the difference in class showed. The young swordsman found himself charging against a wall he could not break down.

Cloud gritted his teeth. Now that force had failed, it was time for finer work. He somersaulted, flipping backwards, using his huge sword as a vaulting pole to put some extra distance between him and the eight – foot blade. No sooner had he landed when he sprung upwards again, both feet in the air, raising his blade over his head, bringing it down as hard as he could at the older warrior. But still Sephiroth was faster than him, and as the Ultima Weapon met the Masamune in a fiery embrace again, the long and thin blade twisted downwards. Sephiroth rolled aside as the larger sword plunged into the barren soil, and with a light flick of the Masamune, he brought the tip of the longsword upwards, opening up a long gash along Cloud's unprotected thigh even as the young SOLDIER struggled to pull his blade out. 

It had been but a superficial flesh wound, but Cloud felt as if his thigh had been rent apart by the _no - dachi_. His injury pained him like a thousand demons, the agony rippling outwards to paralyse his entire leg and part of his hip. He stumbled uncertainly, and all he could feel was the pain… and the redness that was welling up in him with every passing second, overtaking his senses, drowning out the world, until he was ready to carry out the impossible…

The red light flared outwards in an expanding circle around him, and he dashed up to the silver – haired man, the point of the Ultima Weapon at eye level. With one fluid motion the white and pink blade swept from right to left, down and up again in a large fiery crescent, and he finished the move by stepping from side to side, slashing diagonally downwards and slicing upwards in the opposite direction. When his vision was unfogged at last, he was shocked and terrified to see that his enemy was still alive and unhurt, the Masamune in the guard position. The pain assaulted him again with renewed vigour, almost making him bend double. 

Now that Strife had his fun, it was now time for Sephiroth to play the same game. He let the weapon point to the ground at a slight angle, and many dazzling specks began to gather on the tip of the longsword, forming a small incandescent orb. When the energy sphere had finished charging up, he jumped several feet into the air and he spun in a complete circle, the Masamune a silver flash sweeping in every direction at once, dispersing all the gathered energy particles in a single white wave. Cloud barely managed to duck before the killing stream sliced the air where his head had been a split second ago. The expanding ring of deadly force reached the edges of the arena, and all the dead trees and rocks in the area were cut neatly in two by the magic blast. 

"It seems that you will have to do better if you wish to keep me forever in this nightmare."

"And it seems that you're still as crazy as ever!" 

He lunged at Sephiroth again, shifting his weight onto his uninjured leg. The Ultima Weapon struck harder and faster, its wielder maddened by the agony of his injury. The hot – blooded blade was rebuffed yet again by the cold calm steel of the Masamune, and there was a horrible shrieking sound and the still air around them lit up with the intensity of a welder's lamp as the black – cloaked man stepped backwards, the abnormally long sword sliding slowly down the edge of Cloud's blade, the tip coming closer and closer to the sandy – haired man's chest. Cloud knew that he had to break off his attack now, for his opponent was using his superior range to great advantage.

With all his might he twisted the translucent sword upwards, breaking the lock, turning aside the deadly weapon. Even as the longsword came straight at him, he catapulted himself forwards and upwards, throwing himself out of danger, hoping to land behind the SOLDIER general to perform a quick counterstrike before the older man could react to this sudden movement. 

But Sephiroth had predicted this move, and he did not turn around, but he reversed his sword, thrusting it horizontally behind his shoulder, the blade facing away from him. And even as Cloud hit the ground he felt his shoulder jolted out of its socket as the Masamune sank into his deltoid muscles. A moan of agony escaped his lips as he fell onto his knees, turning to see that the man had landed a critical hit without so much as looking at him.

Sephiroth faced him now, the fallen swordsman's eyes glinting, his trademark smirk marring his features. He raised the Masamune aloft and shouted a word of power. There was a flash like lightning, and a single brilliant white bolt shot heavenwards from the blade. Not a second later, Cloud saw a thin and blinding stream of blue energy hurtle from the clouds, coming right for him! Groaning with the pain of moving his injured body, he barely managed to roll aside in time before the magical projectile struck the ground, blasting a large chunk out of the parched earth, peppering him with secondary missiles made of rock fragments. Another lethal blue dart shot towards him, and again he managed to get out of the way as a small crater started yawning open a few metres away. His movements were becoming sluggish, and he was struggling to keep himself from passing out, for he could feel nothing save the torment of his grievous wounds. A third energy lance struck the soil in front of him, shaking him off his feet, making him fall down heavily. And even as he tried to get up again, a fourth bolt from the blue made contact right beside him, and before he knew it he was being propelled several feet through the air, and he hit the ground face – down with a mind – numbing crunch that broke several of his bones.

His consciousness was grey and diminishing, and the edges of his vision were already hazy and indistinct. All he knew was that Sephiroth was striding slowly towards him, and he could hear the villain's cold and mocking laugh burst his ears. It was evident that the one – winged angel was closing in to deliver the _coup de grace_, the final stroke that would avenge his downfall at the Mako reactor, his defeat at the Northern Crater. The Ultima Weapon lay several feet away, too far away for him to reach. At any rate, Cloud had no more strength to lift his weapon, let alone evade the deathblow that he knew was coming. 

"No… it can't end like this…"

Sephiroth guffawed again, holding the Masamune now with both hands. Now he was his own master again, and now he would purge the grim reminders of his sins that plagued his every waking moment and every dreaming minute. Now he would know again the glory and beauty of decisive victory.

"Do not weep, Strife… Your death will send me to the light!"

With consummate ease he sailed several feet into the air, setting the blade where it would pierce the puppet's frail back and travel all the way into Strife's foul heart. It had to be perfect. He closed his eyes, and plunged downwards with every single ounce of fury and pain and pride and sadness his tortured soul could draw together to perform the master stroke. He would win this time. 

The Masamune passed through his victim's soft flesh as easily if it had just torn through paper, the long blade sinking down and down and right up to the guard. A high – pitched scream rewarded his heroic efforts… but wait… 

That was not Strife crying out loudly in death, acting out the final throes of his short and bitter life. That voice… it was clear and light and lilting… a girl's voice.

He opened his eyes, and his face paled and his mouth dropped down in extreme horror. No! It couldn't be! It was impossible! He was on the threshold of victory, yet the nightmares had defeated him once more…

Aeris lay dying upon his blade… again. 

He felt two small hands travel up the handle of the weapon, locking onto his hands with a grip as hard as a vice. Those eyes were looking at him again, the large smooth surfaces cracked and watery with pain, yet desperate and pleading for mercy. 

"Sephiroth… please… spare him…" Her soft warbling voice struck him again, sounding like the string of an angel's harp that had just snapped.

What? Gainsborough was asking him to do what? Give himself up to his nightmares again? Leave his enemy undefeated and ready to pounce on him another day? Now she was asking him to preserve his enemy's life… at the cost of her own! What was going on now? She was asking for the impossible with her dying wish! How could she ask him to do this?

"Never! Strife is one of them! He is making me suffer!"

He tried to pull those slender fingers away from him, but they tightened, gripping him as tenaciously as the jaw's of a hunter's snare. Still those agonising eyes resolutely held their gaze, her spirit unwilling to let him go. She was holding death itself at bay just to make him die with her!

"Promise… me!"

In this moment of crisis, his mind crystallised and he found himself thinking rationally for once. He could not let her die. If the young Cetra were to perish, his guardian angel would be gone, and all his hopes for redemption would be over. He would only commit more sins, and he would go back to hell, and into the cold void of ultimate unending suffering. Even if he were to kill Strife, even though he wanted so badly to have his revenge and quieten the monsters within him, yet… wouldn't he be bloodying his hands again by taking another life? What about his mother, or Uncle Gast, or Auntie Ifalna? What would they say if he failed to protect her? Wouldn't they be so bitterly disappointed to see their hopes disappear like that? Hadn't he made a promise to keep _their daughter_ safe? For their sake, and his own, he had to bite the bullet yet again. It was so ironic, that he now he had to help his worst enemy in order to facilitate his personal survival. He had no choice… but to save her, no matter what happened. 

"All right, if it means so much to you, you have my word!"

The girl smiled, and her eyes closed slowly as if she was simply falling asleep. Those smooth fingers loosened their hold, and as they drew away from him, he noticed several deep impressions on his hands. As she passed out, Gainsborough slid silently off the blade, landing with a dull thump on the sodden ground. Sephiroth could only stand stock still in silence as he looked at the Masamune. He had stabbed the girl through and through with his legendary weapon, yet his blade was still clean and polished and perfectly spotless. The Masamune had shed no blood. 

His shock at this revelation was interrupted as a warm liquid splattered all over his face. Her wound had opened up, and a huge scarlet river was spurting out with every beat of her heart like a flood from a ruptured dam, soaking every part of her pink dress, deepening the colour of her jacket further. Her face was now wan and pale as life itself began to drain away from it. When she had fallen unconscious, she had lost all voluntary control, and now the blood was leaking out of her mouth in a bright red froth, held in check for too long, trickling freely down her cheeks from her nose. The blood was here, there, and everywhere now. She was bleeding to death now. 

He pressed both his hands against the massive injury, hoping to stem the crimson tide that was still breaking through despite his best efforts, literally and metaphorically staining his hands like the murderer he was. He looked around, hoping to find someone or something that could help him staunch the bleeding. He did not equip himself with materia, and he did not carry any healing potions on his person, confident that he would defeat Strife without any trouble. He had only one consolation, and that was his blond adversary also lay senseless not far away, his injuries, coupled with the shock of seeing his lover a second time upon the Masamune too much for him to withstand. At least the puppet would not be trying to stab him in the back as he was trying to save Gainsborough. And even as his mind worked feverishly, the warm fluid kept pouring out through his wet, shiny palms, taunting his inability to save the girl's life, bubbling a laugh at his fate that was about to be sealed. 

The Ancient was still wearing her armlets, and they were loaded with materia. Sephiroth thanked the Planet for the small blessing, and he slowly took one bloody hand off the wound. As he placed his dripping fingers onto one small green orb set into the metal bracelet, he noticed that his hands were trembling slightly. Cold sweat was dripping down his brow. His mouth was dry. The great General Sephiroth was actually afraid! He had performed so many death – defying acts in the past that had made him the envy of generations of SOLDIERs. He had once charged across no – man's land, evading the deadly spray of automatic fire to take out the gunners lurking in the enemy trenches, paving the way for his comrades to make the big push and win the day. He had once ventured into a fortress deep within enemy territory, challenging and slaying a hostile warlord in a duel, and for five hours after that he had held off a thousand of Wutai's finest ninjas and mounted soldiers before he reached safety. He had done all that without a second thought, and he had never feared even for a minute, and the thought of failure or defeat or death had never crossed his mind, for he was supremely confident of his own abilities… and he was merely proving his worth to the world. He wanted people to like and respect him. 

Now… why was he so jittery about something as simple as saving a life? Yes, it was a yet another all – or – nothing situation, but he'd experienced that before, and it hadn't bothered him one bit. But then he had helped those people because he had been assigned to protect them, he was doing it because it was part of his professional duties. Now, the stakes were so much more higher. He was still fighting a war. He had yet to score a victory over Gainsborough, and he wouldn't let her take the coward's way out, run away from him like that. At the same time, for the first time perhaps, he was fighting for the people he held dear to himself, no longer for Shinra or Midgar or Jenova…or was it for something else, something deeper this time?

At last the green light surrounded him, and he was rewarded with an expanding circle of golden magical dust, followed by a large shower of bright yellowish – white specks that brought with it potent healing power. He was bathed in pure sunlight that focused the force of recovery and life itself upon his comatose target. When the heartening light faded at last, he looked down at the girl, and was dismayed to see that the bleeding had only subsided a little, and her life was still draining away onto the cracked and hardened earth which drank it greedily. That had been a Fullcure spell, one of the strongest healing spells, and by now Gainsborough should be lying here hale and hearty, her wound healed completely, the danger past. But the Masamune was an enchanted blade, and the injuries it inflicted were highly resistant to all forms of restorative items and materia. The slightest scratch would hurt as much as a terrible laceration, and a major injury would always prove fatal. But still, he would not give up no matter how terrible the odds were. He had a reputation to live up to.

His black – cloaked heart began to pound its way through his sternum as he felt the girl's wrist to find that her heart had stopped beating. Her torn chest was stiff and still – she had stopped breathing. He struggled to keep fright and despair away, placing his shaking hand onto the next materia orb in the girl's wristguard, and it took a massive effort of will to concentrate his flustered thoughts into the spell he absolutely, positively had to cast now. The green Mako aura flared again, and a pillar of fiery red light engulfed them, bathing him with warm radiance. More of the gold energy orbs swirled around the two of them, and he saw, of all creatures, a winged angel, a spirit of a long – dead Ancient hovering above him, casting her magic on the dying girl. The Cetra ghost smiled at him, and swirled upwards into nothingness as the spell faded. 

The Life 2 spell should have revived the girl, completely healing all her injuries like the Fullcure spell, but still the blood kept flowing out and out. But the materia had served its purpose; he could feel a pulse now, weak but certain, and her chest was moving ever so slowly, ever so shallowly. Surely there was something else he could do to help her! 

His hand brushed against something small and hard in the girl's dress pocket. Instinctively he reached inside, yanking it out. It was a small glass phial, the writing on the label smudged and blotted out by the blood, but he instantly knew from the shape and colour of the little bottle what medicaments it contained. It was a Megalixir, the rarest and best healing item ever known to man or Ancient. He gulped hard. If this could not save her, nothing would. He turned Gainsborough's head to the side, parting her lips, letting the blood drain out. Yanking the cork off the phial, he emptied the precious silver liquid into her mouth, forcing her to swallow it, hoping against hope that the potion would work. The girl was instantly covered with small, rainbow – coloured stars that healed every part of her body, the magic in the enchanted fluid converting itself to flesh and blood, racing to repair what damage it could. He looked over the young gardener, and at last he sighed with unsuppressed relief. The girl was not completely healed, even by the Megalixir, but the bleeding had now slowed down to a trickle, and a little colour had returned to her face. He got up, wiping his hands on his tunic, which was equally slick and soaked to the skin, and pulled off his cloak, wrapping it around her chest. 

Sephiroth picked up the flower girl, placing her in his arms, and set off as quickly as a chocobo towards the town. He prayed that he could reach a doctor in time, for her life was sitting at the very edge now. All he knew was she could not die. His life was in her fragile hands, and if she fell off this precipice, he would die together with her. He didn't want the nightmares to haunt him any more. He was being crushed by the weight of his crimes, and if she died everything would fall right back on top of him and smash him back into damnation. He didn't want her to die. He wanted her to see him shake his fist in her face, show her that he was every bit as strong – willed and determined as her. She would not die. He would not allow her to die. 

__

A/N: I told you this would end on a cliffhanger!

My alternative title for this chapter is: Showdown of Fate v2.0_. I was inspired by the opening FMV of FFVIII, where Squall and Seifer fight each other. Even though I've not played KH, or the Final Mix for that matter, I've read the translations, and I was wondering what it would become if I were to make Sephiroth speak Cloud's lines… whether that would be sufficiently ennobling to make the reader sympathise more with him. Makes him appear like the good guy, yep? Sephy, of course, proves once and for all who's the boss (well, unfortunately, this is an Aeriseph fic, so I guess I have to do him some justice). Oh, and I hope you like the modified Darth Vader quote._

As you can see, I took liberties with Sephiroth's limit breaks. (You see how skilled he is - these aren't even limits - he didn't have the "energy explosion" or whatever you call it that comes before a limit move.) Can you recognise some of them? I had him perform Fire Cross and Fated Circle, as well as a modified version of Freya's Trance Jump command, with the glowing spears flying down from above. This doesn't really resemble an ancient Medieval duel - I kind of like those cool swordfighting scenes from the Hongkong dramas. Unfortunately, I could not have Sephiroth and Cloud chasing each other in the air, maybe next time perhaps. There are some scenes in the game that Sephiroth actually flies around, though…

I would very much appreciate it if someone could describe to me (in as much detail as possible) what Sephiroth's infamous Sin Harvest move is like… maybe I'll write that into a future chapter some day.

What happened to Cloud's Buster Sword in KH? This is merely what I would have thought. You remember how the Horn of Gondor broke when Boromir died at the end of the Fellowship of the Ring? I merely twisted this to suit the current context. Interestingly enough, the Buster Sword was originally owned by Zack, who also loved Aeris. When Cloud's heart broke upon the girl's death, the sword broke as well, and now, even as he has a new lover, he has obtained a new weapon. In a computer game, there has to be some suspension of reality… all the wrappings on the Buster Sword would have torn away the moment he hit Sora's Keyblade! Or maybe the bandages are made of mythril or something, I really don't know. 

Note that this chapter and the previous one were originally meant to be together, but it got too long and I had to split it up or I would have everyone falling asleep over their keyboards=). I love tearful reunion scenes.

Of course, here are my replies to those who have faithfully kept reviewing this story:

__

To the Constructicons:

So… Duke Nukem's a copycat, eh? Jack and shit him, man. No doubt you guys could probably give him a place of honour - as part of the superstructure of the latest Decepticon superweapon! Bye bye baby!

__

To Starfall4790:

Well… I wish I could share your enthusiasm! This chapter is of minor importance to plot development (actually, the story itself is merely a platform for the romance to develop on), but I hope I've provided a little more insight into the mind of Sephiroth the Bizzaro.

__

To EnchantedMiko:

Heh heh… here you have seen the Sephiroth / Cloud conflict up close and personal! As for Cloud and Aeris… wait a while more… this was a love that could never be.

__

To DClick:

I hope this battle scene is more kickass! Sephiroth is a bit confused, isn't he? It's slightly impossible to keep up the "I don't care about you, I don't need your help" attitude all the time, as Squall realised to his dismay. Speaking about Squall, "Whatever" is one of his most famous lines, because he says this almost all the time until Disc 3. 

Ah… I wish Cloud and Aerith would make an appearance in KH2… Well, if not Cloud, then at least Aerith… won't it be nice if she's a playable character, even for a little while like Tarzan or Peter Pan… but gets down on my knees oh Planet, dear, dear, Planet, don't let her die! It will break my heart (and the hearts of a LOT of Aeris fanboys) again! (Psst… here's a little secret… I cried when Aeris died… hee hee…) But about Sephy being Riku's dad… don't you find it weird that Sora, Tidus and all the little kids are left alone on Destiny Islands without their parents? Who left them there? Or did they just appear like that?

Oh, and don't let your sis bully you. Come on, surely all 6 of you can merge to form Devastator too!

__

To Alx91:

Hmmm… So the Masamune is the holy sword… there was one interesting site on Cloud I saw… it was discussing the role of the Masamune and the Murasame in the game… Cloud can use the Murasame, while the Masamune is exclusively Sephy's weapon… Masamune is a holy sword, yet Sephy uses it to commit great evil… while Cloud uses it to defeat all the violent monsters that come near him… the author of the article argued that the distinctions between good and evil are blurred - here you see a holy sword being used by a demon, while the good guy redeems the Murasame by using it as a weapon for justice. What really matters in the end is what cause you choose to side.

I shall digress here a moment… but at the time in Disc 1 when I entered the Forgotten Capital… I was carrying the Murasame, which (if I'm not wrong) is the most powerful weapon Cloud can carry (apart from the Nail Bat) in Disc 1. The Murasame attracts evil, and in this context, it attracts the ultimate evil - he, the wielder of the cursed sword, sees his lover die in front of him, in his arms, killed by Sephiroth. Yet you can say that the Masamune was living up to its name as a holy blade, because by killing Aeris, it facilitated the saving of the world at the very end (I doubt that she could have used the Lifestream unless she was dead, as I have mentioned in the previous chapter). In a sense, it was forced by its wielder to do violence, yet its power ironically helped to bring the evil to an end. Note that the Masamune, as a sacred sword, did not draw blood when it killed Aeris (either that or Squaresoft didn't want a Mature rating for the game).

__

To Homunculus:

You know, a Cid/Aeris relationship seems so challenging and so unconventional that I feel tempted to do it some day! How about some Barret / Aeris? For KH, why not consider Sora / Aerith? If Yuffie and Squall (or Yuffie and Vincent, for that matter) can get together despite the age gap, why not our Keyblade hero and the flower girl? I really hope you can look forward to happier days, I think I've got writer's block! Wish me luck!

__

To Phantom Kensai:

You're not alone here. I also like Cleris stuff, but why the heck I started writing on Sephy I myself can't remember, but it seems to be going along quite all right. Oh well, Rufus survived Diamond Weapon, but just barely… I would say by the skin of his teeth, but he had no skin, and no teeth left for that matter. That cost him an arm and a leg, and maybe even more…

Strange… I haven't received word from anyone yet that Sephiroth's stammering is OOC… I take it to be a welcoming sign…

Yep, it's true, "They will know fear" comes from Tiberian Sun, spoken by the Cyborg Commando, the most powerful NOD unit. The Apocalypse tank was cool, but I think the Devastator from Emperor was far better. At least it had a self - destruct mode. Sun wasn't too bad, but it was very dark, and I got tired of the endless brown and white tilesets they put up every mission.

To Starling94:

Whoa… is your story going to be an Aeriseph too? Thank you so much for recognising me, I feel a bit flattered that someone actually adopted my silly ideas and work practices! Hope to hear from you soon, I'm dying to see what happens to Cloudy - Woudy, Aerie - Faerie, Squally - Wally, and Rinny - Poo! What happens to Jenova? And what happens to Sephy - kins and Seifer - Waffle? Coolness! Hahahaha!


	12. Chapter 12: The Way of the Warrior

****

OF A PURE HEART, A FALLEN KNIGHT AND THE ONE – WINGED ANGELS

__

----------------------------------------- Disclaimer: ------------------------------------------

To the Reader and the Lawyers:

Final Fantasy VII, and all the characters, including Aeris and Sephiroth, Cloud, Tifa, Barret, Vincent, Yuffie, Red, Cid, Cait Sith (Reeve), Ifalna, Professor Gast, Lucrecia, Professor Hojo Frankenstein, Jenova the Mad, Rufus (any anyone I may have inadvertently missed out) are property of Square Enix Co, formerly Squaresoft LLC. Tell me if my disclaimer ain't good enough. I will reward you with a few thousand Chibi - Aeriths dosed to the nines with Hypers, and they shall hug you and squeeze you and kiss you and have a lot of fun with you (you know how… challenging Chibi - Aeriths are from the humour fanfics here). 

****

To other Fanfic Writers (This is more important!) Plagiarism Note:

There are a lot of Aeriseph fanfics around here. I've tried my best to stay as original as possible, but it's a bit hard to write this type of story without treading on someone's toes by accident along the line. Please, if you feel that I may have 'borrowed' some of your concepts or ideas by mistake, notify me immediately. **Email** a "cease and desist" message to me, point out where I have gone wrong, and I will act immediately to remove or modify the offending section(s). 

Thank you very, very much for your understanding and tolerance. 

It may be a more reasonable and prudent course of action to read the following chapter as opposed to studying the disclaimer above.

THE WAY OF THE WARRIOR

__

I am… still alive…

Aeris should have been comfortable, buried under the sheets that lay heavily on her. She felt draughts of cold air sting her cheeks slightly, she could hear the lonesome humming of the air conditioner, and the incongruous rustle of several feet nearby. Why was she feeling like this? 

She had been dreaming. Aeris had left her mother's house, searching for Sephiroth, and when she saw the disturbed faces, the disapproving eyes in the streets, she knew that something had happened. She had asked one of the townsmen, and he had wordlessly pointed to the gates of the village. The flower seller did not know why, but she was filled with a sudden sense of urgency, and she had run as quickly as she could, fearing for the silver – haired warrior. And when she arrived at the cold stone arena… she saw… a young man… about to die.

The young Cetra had pushed… that man… out of the way, placing herself upon the Masamune a second time, letting it take her heart away again. The blade had sheared through her bones, ripping her lungs open, forcing the wind out of her sails. She tried to draw breath, but all she could take in was that horrible sour coppery taste. She was drowning in her own blood. And the pain… every part of her body was dying slowly and horribly, and she could feel nothing else except the excruciating agony. Her vision had blacked out, and the terrifying seconds had passed by slowly, with the indescribable sensation building up to a horrifying crescendo that overrode her entire consciousness. She wanted to give it all up, to submit to this burning torment, anything to end her suffering. But somewhere, somehow, she still found within herself the strength to speak out, pleading for him to be saved. She had heard him speak the magic words, and she felt herself delivered from the unnatural evil, and even as she sped towards heavenly relief, straight into blessed release, she felt, at the very last moment… pure bliss…

Aeris opened her eyes. The person who had been in her dreams for so long was looking at her. How could she forget those lovely cerulean eyes, large with feeling, wide with meaning? The intensity of his gaze… the green warmth that came from them, reaching right into her soul… His features were set in his usual calm and confident poker face, yet they were relaxed, almost seeming to glow as he set eyes upon her. He had looked upon her in this very same way he had once, once upon a time in a peaceful palace, and she had never forgotten how he had opened himself to her so completely… making her live in paradise… This was the last wonder she had ever beheld… before the divider of heaven and earth had come, leaving her stranded forever on the cold hard asphalt, doomed to look longingly from afar at the beauties of life hovering above that she could never enjoy now…

This man was her lover… no… the man whose love she had lost…

He was but one cubit away from her, yet it was as if they were being held apart by an unbridgeable span. True love stood within arm's reach, yet so unattainable… Death had separated them, yet even in life they could not be together again. They would now be together forever, but eternally apart. 

She jammed her eyes shut, turning her head to the side, but even then she couldn't stop thinking about those loving Mako eyes. The pain was coming back, and oh, it hurt so much more than even that horrid blade! Her eyelids swelled, and she swallowed several times as she fought to keep her agony at bay, the slow – acting corrosive that was burning her heart bit by bit, dissolving her thoughts fibre by fibre, consuming her spirit _poco a poco. _The irony of it all! It was far too much for her to take, far too much for her to bear. 

"… Aeris…"

She heard that gruff, yet hoarse voice. It had been the very last piece of music to come to her ears before she had died. And even after her death, she could still hear him. He had been talking about her… for a while, he had still loved her, even though she was no longer with him, and if only to hear his voice, she had endured a while longer, lingering alone in the green darkness, unwilling to travel beyond. He had remembered her… until that day. She should have been gladdened by this, but her heart had been immeasurably saddened when he had come to at last, hurting himself no longer, setting free his anguish, letting go of her forever. She had never wanted him to grieve over her death. She had always wanted him to find happiness…

But… never in this way.

Now he had left her behind, making her unhappy. He had finally turned to the one who had been there for him when she hadn't… because she had died. She had left the world. She had returned to the Planet, passed into the Promised Land. She had gone beyond his reach permanently. She had become an impossible dream he couldn't possibly chase. 

Then… why had she died? Why did she have to die? Why did she have to be separated from Cloud? She had seen so much unhappiness in her life. She had never known life as a normal child. She had undergone the most sadistic and severe tortures Hojo could ever devise. She never had the chance to know her father. She had watched her mother die right before her very eyes. She had been the last member of a race she knew practically nothing about save a few scraps of lore here and there, no one to reassure her that she wasn't a mad person. She had no friends, no one at all to talk to. Her first sweetheart had left her without a word, and she had been forced to leave her beloved bodyguard without being allowed to say a word, made to witness him marry someone other than herself! 

Aeris had made it her life's work to bring joy to her friends, knowing that they too were people in pain, resolving never to let anyone else endure the hell she'd gone through. When the threat of Meteor became evident, she knew straightaway the scale of suffering everyone would have to bear if she didn't try to stop it. So… she had no recourse but to go forward… and she had succeeded. Oh yes, she had saved the Planet, and everyone's lives, and that should have been a great enough reward for her, perhaps, but still she felt hollow and unfulfilled, because she had lost something dear in return. It was so, so bittersweet. True, she had made everyone happy, given everyone a new life to look forward to… except herself. She had given everyone their lives, their future, their dreams, but at the cost of her own. Was it so much just to be with the man she loved, so much to ask for someone to care for her? Yes, she had gotten her heart's desire, but just as she had taken the slightest sip, a little nibble of the finer things of life… she had been called away... to give it all up. And she had been helpless to do anything about it. The thread of her fate had been torn away from his the moment the ribbon had fallen from her hair. Why was she being made to live this loveless play? What had she ever done to deserve such a life? Was this really her true destiny? How lucky could a girl get? 

"… I'm sorry…"

He had come to apologise. What use was it of now? Cloud… Cloud… why did he have to let go of her memory? Why did he have to forget about her? Why didn't he wait for her? Didn't he remember the promise she had given him in the Sleeping Forest? Didn't he see her shade in the church at Sector 5, waving to him? Didn't he see her hand reaching out for him even as Holy began to move? Didn't he make a vow then to meet her in the Promised Land? Did he know that she had been pining away for him all along, longing for his love even beyond the mortal life? Did he know all that? Of course he knew. They were lovers. Even the stars had said so. But if he did, why did he close his mind to her? Why did he have to leave her? He had forsaken his Princess Rosa, the one he had adored the most. He had done exactly the same thing in the Gold Saucer during their date. He had kissed the Evil Dragon King, and pirouetted off the stage with the princess that had emerged, leaving her alone to gawk in astonishment and dismay. That idiot! Why did he have to dump her just because she was only dead?

And that cruel man with the white hair and the sadistic grin… why did he have to kill her? Because of his infantile quest for power, and that stupid blade of his, he had made her fall into the darkness, forced her out of paradise, shaken the salt from her life. She had done him no wrong. He had not only ended her natural life at the water altar, he had forevermore rid her soul of the chance to see the light again. Why was she still helping him, even though he was treating her like dirt, like an affliction, not one whit sympathetic to the sterile, fruitless life she was going through now?

Tifa… she of all people knew best the love she was sharing with Cloud, yet she'd been so selfish, promising to help him look for her, yet stealing his heart along the way. She'd hoped that the barmaid would have helped to honour her memory, encouraged Cloud to stay strong and wait for the day they'd be together in heaven, yet she had betrayed her trust in the end… 

Didn't they know that all their thoughtless actions were making her heart bleed apace, making her go crazy? She could not help but cry out at them all for leaving her like this… who or what else was she to blame then for all her misfortune, the pain of losing her lover, the sadness that came with losing everything she had treasured?

"Aeris… I… gave up searching for you… Forgive… me…"

As much as she wanted to scold Cloud for deserting her, show him the heartbreak that he had caused her, her lips refused to part, her teeth felt heavy and her tongue did not want to move. Not a sound came out though she desperately longed in all helplessness to lash out at him now, seek some scant redress to alleviate her suffering… 

"………."

Aeris could not speak. Despite her anger, deep within the silences of her soul, she knew that it wasn't their fault. All three of them had never intended to harm her. Cloud… Sephiroth… Tifa… they were all innocent. She could blame them for what had happened to her as much as she could blame Marlene for ruining her life. Cloud had chosen to forget her, and he had chosen wisely, for every moment apart had made him mad, made him step closer to dying of grief… he had recovered from losing her at long last, picking up the shards of his life, and that had been so very brave of him. That was what a true hero would have done. Sephiroth had been controlled by the Jenova cells within him. He was an honourable man, yet he had been turned into a monster by the Crisis from the Sky that had destroyed her race at the Knowlespole. After she'd left, Tifa had been the only pillar of strength left to Cloud. The only one left who could love him. How could he be expected… to love a dead person? How could she blame them for what was beyond their control, what they had been forced to do?

And she knew, though she didn't want to admit it, that she was at fault too. Perhaps none of this would ever have happened if she hadn't gone to the City of the Ancients alone, maybe if her friends had accompanied her, they might have prevented her untimely demise. Even in the Lifestream, she should have tried harder to speak to Cloud, to tell him to keep laying down all his love on her, to ask him to look forward to the time they could be reunited. It was so hard to believe that someone was still watching over you, caring for you even beyond the grave, and she had thought that just one show of a hand could convince him completely. And hadn't she forgotten all about him in the Promised Land? She had been so happy to meet her parents, savouring the wonders of heaven and learning more about her people that she had neglected him, left him alone to mourn her loss. She had not come back to him, and he had been so discouraged, believing that she was gone for good. She had failed him. She had failed to treasure his love, and she had given him up so easily. That was her sin. She had deserved this punishment. She was merely shifting the blame to someone else just to feel better, to forget about her own mistakes…

She had to do better than this. What was past could not be undone. Why did she keep slipping into the bottomless pit that held her sorrows, reflecting always on what she'd done wrong, lamenting over what she could not have avoided, agonising over what she could have done, while she had her work cut out for her, solemn duties to carry out, promises to keep? What had happened to her resolution to leave all her unhappiness behind, write a new story for herself? She had thought then that she had conquered it all, that she was ready to move on with life… but now… she realised how so terribly difficult it was not to keep flipping back to those torrid chapters, reading those tear – stained pages again and again… 

She still could not forget her memories… those memories… To him, she was only a memory now. She didn't want to talk about those things. They made her feel sad, but she had been defeated, and now she would have to say goodbye to him, and wish him well. How she wanted to embrace him, forget about those failed opportunities, those missed chances, forget about it all… But she couldn't, and oh, how those words would break her heart… 

"Cloud… I… I…

"I… forgive you… It wasn't your fault… I couldn't come back in time…"

She swallowed again, her tears rasping against her hoarse and smarting throat, opening her eyes, looking firmly at him, though the sight of it all burned her eyes to blindness. Cloud's face was still set in stone, but his muscles quivered slightly, he was blinking quickly and his teeth were clenched firmly. She tried to smile, even though the tears were struggling to rush out from her burst heart, her dying spirit. She just had to go on a bit more… take the pain a while more… 

"Aeris…"

"We can never be together now, not in this life, not for all eternity. You've made your choice… follow it… with courage. Go to her… be happy… you love her now… 

"Please… leave me…"

He bowed, unable to look at the poor girl, unwilling to see the fragile, tearful shell that contained what little was left of her, the remnants of the blossoming love that had been plucked far too early. In its place was a wilting and dying stalk that could never grow again… but would remain forever a grim and grave fossil, an epitaph to happiness. She had given him her blessing, but he knew that his heart would always secretly yearn for his beautiful princess. At last he tore himself away from his one – time lover, closing the door silently behind him as he walked out of the life of the girl who had mattered so much to him. 

__

But I am dead already… I died when lost his love… 

This was a love… that could never be. 

And Cloud's words came unbidden to her mind. 

__

If everything's a dream, don't wake me.

Was this all real? Her dream had been all too real. Now she knew what Cloud had meant back then. Her perfect fantasy world had been destroyed. She was absolutely powerless, totally helpless now. She did not want to awaken. She did not want to accept the reality of it all. What was she without him? 

Aeris could stand the pain no longer. She could resist the sadness no longer. Her will relaxed, and she released the tears she had been holding back, the grief she had been keeping to herself until now. The front of her sky white hospital gown was soon soaked completely, and the bandages below began to moisten slightly as the torrent of woe flowed without ceasing. Many loud sobs of bitterness escaped with every laboured breath she took. Self – pity fouled her tears, making them dirty and base, dripping from her nose, falling off her chin, trailing down her neck. For nearly half an hour she was lost completely in the blackness, her heart weighing her down, her emotions dragging her to the ground. It was fortunate for her that she had little strength left due to the severity of her injuries, and her frail and battered body could no longer withstand the stress of confronting her past and her failures. Blessed oblivion took her away eventually, but still, her dream continued to play itself over and over again…

*****

It was midnight already. This was merely another night, and another (lot of) gil earned. 

The portly, middle – aged bartender had finally washed up all the glasses, put all the furniture in their rightful place, "persuaded" a somewhat tipsy redheaded customer and his irritating bombshell to leave his establishment and mopped up the green glop he had left behind as a parting gift. He was just about to leave the counter to close and bolt the main doors when someone stepped through the darkened archway.

"Hey, it's past closing time!" The irate owner grumbled.

The man dressed completely in black ignored him, sitting down on a tall stool at the bar counter. 

"Give me your strongest drink."

The tavernkeeper opened his mouth to chew out his unwanted patron in a flurry of flowery language, but he wisely held his peace at the sight of the eight – foot sword the stranger had placed on the bar counter. A small pile of gil appeared beside his weapon. The blade had been a good enough incentive to make him serve the man, but now he went about his task willingly enough. 

Sephiroth stared at his glass, not paying attention to the bartender who was greedily scooping up his money. A lot had happened these few days, and he needed some time… and something to think it over. 

The Masamune had drawn no blood. This was a very bad portent indeed, even as he recalled the day on which he had received his enchanted weapon… An old man, steeped in the lore of swordsmanship and magic, had challenged him one day to single combat, and despite his skills, the man had injured him with the blade, and even as he fought off the pain, he could not believe that his challenger had ceased attacking him, staring at his sword, pure astonishment and fear highlighting his features. He had chosen this moment to press forward, taking advantage of his opponent's distraction, and after that his opponent had fought with heightened resolve and fury, and they had continued for five days and nights without pause. Eventually he had defeated the aged martial arts exponent. The swordsman had then bowed to him, presenting him with the Masamune. Before he had left, the old man had told him about the story behind this sword, and now he recalled his very last words…

__

"You must fear and respect the person from whom the Masamune draws no blood. For then you will know your true enemy, for he possesses the power to destroy you. Fight him with all your will and your wiles, for you will never know peace until you defeat him… or suffer defeat yourself."

The man had not sheathed his sword, and when Sephiroth looked at it, he noticed that the blade was spotless, even though he had been wounded many times by it during the course of the battle. So the legend of the sword was indeed true. It had been his destiny to defeat the man who had once held the Masamune. 

So this Gainsborough was fated to be his mortal enemy. He had struck her not once, but two times with the Masamune. He had stabbed her in the back when she was kneeling on the altar in prayer, attacked her at her most unprotected and vulnerable moment. He had not dwelt on it at the moment, drunk as he was with his zeal to serve his "mother" and accomplish her genocidal aims, but even as he had removed her from his blade, he had noticed that the magical steel had stayed completely clean… but it was a different matter for Strife, who had nearly drowned in his lover's blood. And the Cetra youngster had retaliated promptly. In her spirit form, she was completely out of his reach, totally unassailable, and from that position of strength she had called upon the power of the Planet to rout him completely… That Gainsborough…

Gainsborough… Gainsborough… now he recognised the old woman who had attacked him the other day. He had seen her once… sixteen years ago, when the war between Wutai and Midgar had ended. Then, he had personally led a small, hand – picked band of trusted men, tasked to venture deep behind enemy lines to carry out assignments that even a SOLDIER would hesitate to attempt. James Gainsborough had been a 1st Class SOLDIER, a member of the crack team he had headed… and the only person under his command to die during the war. 

Almost all of their operations consisted of nothing but sure – fire opportunities to end their lives prematurely, but he and his team took pride in jesting with death, confident of their skills and determined to stay alive, eager to get the job done and get the credit for it. They had all survived the perils and the uncountable odds they had faced, emerging from it all unscathed. Until one summer morning, on the day the war had ended…

He had been asked to lead the victory parade through the streets of the Wutaian capital. Even though he cared little about festivities and grand celebrations of any kind, he had been obliged to do so, being the commander – in – chief of Shinra forces. The Publicity Subcommittee had asked him to ride a white charger at the head of his armies, and he had grudgingly agreed. At any rate, he allowed his commando team to march in the place of honour behind him, rewarding them for their loyal service by giving them the recognition they had long craved. 

Not five minutes after Sephiroth had entered the city did he suddenly find himself flung off his horse, hearing a dull thud beside him and one of his men groaning quietly. He had recovered quickly, and he saw a ninja in the crowds, about to throw another shuriken at him. One leap, and a quick slash with the Masamune silenced him. He had returned to the fallen man, discovering that it was Gainsborough who had saved his life. But the SOLDIER was already beyond help. He had been wounded in the shoulder, but the shuriken had been meant for the General all along. It had been tipped with the fastest acting poison known, causing death within three seconds. Thus, he had to perform the solemn duty of breaking the news of the man's death to his next – of – kin, something he'd never hoped to have to do during his time as a commanding officer. The great Sephiroth would have to eat his humble pie. 

Gainsborough's wife had simply taken the bad tidings without comment, but she had not cried at all. Her shoulders had simply loosened, her hands falling to her side, nodding silently at his words, as if she had been expecting it all along. She had excused herself then, offering to bring him a drink. But then, he heard the sounds of a struggle from within the kitchen, and he had rushed in, sword at the ready. The woman was holding a knife in her hand, placing it at her throat, while a little girl was clinging onto her skirts, pleading with the lady not to take her own life. She had begged the bereaved spouse not to orphan her, not to leave her alone in this world. The woman had stared at the child for a long time, before lowering the knife and embracing her. The two of them had cried together, for now they had only each other to rely upon now. And that girl… how could he possibly forget her? 

That girl… those large, tearful green eyes, glittering in a way even his Mako enhanced eyes could not compare to. The small, shining face, soft and warm. That large toothy smile of hers, those sweet, rose – red lips, the long, abundant and silky straight hair of hers tied back with a little pink ribbon. She was so wonderfully adorable, so amazingly cherubic. She was only a sapling then, but she would blossom into a beautiful lady who would be able to melt the hardest hearts… or save the world. That sweet little kid he'd seen back then was now the young woman he had killed once, and nearly killed again, the teenage girl whom he had pledged fealty to unwillingly, that messed – up wreck of a person who now lay more dead than alive in a hospital not far from here…

Gainsborough. It seemed that he could never cease to be indebted to that girl's family. Professor Gast and Auntie Ifalna had become his foster parents, trying for that girl just because he felt lonely. James Gainsborough had sacrificed his life for his superior officer, just to give him a few more years of life… but what a lot of good that had done. It was so strange that he was so inextricably linked to her, destined to be with her because of what her natural and foster parents had done for him. He could never run away from her, it seemed. 

Another man entered the bar. The barkeeper fumed silently, as this was another strange customer he had. The newcomer wore a red cloak and a matching scarf that covered his face up to his crimson – coloured eyes. He had an artificial hand made in the shape of a sharpened claw, and if his appearance was not intimidating enough, the large handgun holstered at his hip deterred anything more than a casual glance at him. 

Pointing to the beer keg mounted in front of him, the red – eyed man silently ordered and paid for his draught, taking a long and leisurely drink from his tankard, either not knowing, or more likely, not caring about the fact that the enemy he had fought against only one year ago was sitting beside him. 

Sephiroth knew immediately who he was. This dark and sorrowful man had fought him not to seek revenge for a loved one, not to stop the Meteor from destroying the Planet, nor to get all the choice materia mounted on the Masamune. He had fought… to conquer his past. He had let go of it at last. He had won the battle with his demons. The silver – haired man could not help but feel envious at the one – armed man, for he had won the war. He seemed thin and weak, but he possessed the courage and tenacity to do what the former general could not accomplish despite having superior powers, the advantage of hindsight, a faithful weapon... and a "guardian angel" he didn't want. 

Apparently, even though the red – cloaked gunman had not seen Sephiroth looking closely at him, it seemed that he had sensed that someone was observing him quietly. He put down the mug and turned around, fixing a bloody – eyed gaze at the tall warrior, waiting as if he was expecting his counterpart to say something. There was a short silence, and then the black – garbed SOLDIER began to speak, one of his hands retreating into his pocket.

"… Are you the one named Valentine?"

"………."

There was another pause, and he took another long drink from the tankard. 

"… Indeed…"

The general pulled a small case out of his tunic, wordlessly pushing it across the bar counter, showing it to Vincent. The wooden box was now stained a dark mahogany, a bloody valentine… how apt. Even the Midgar Zolom he had impaled along the way to Junon had not bled as much as that girl. Once he had left her in the Kalm Sanatorium, he had hurriedly retreated to his room, refusing to let anyone else see him like this, placing himself under the shower for an interminable period of time with his eyes shut tightly, for he knew that he had once looked like this before, covered from head to toe with the blood of too many innocents. He had assiduously washed and scrubbed and scraped the mess she had made off his clothing and equipment, but even now he was still finding several reddish – brown flecks fall out of his shoulder – guards and armlets. His hands still bore the deep marks her fingers had left upon him earlier on. It seemed that he could never be free of that Gainsborough, as she was trying her very worst to ingrain herself into every fibre of his life. 

Vincent opened the box, examining its contents for several minutes, before closing it and tucking it away on his person. He stared at the floor, his head lowered, and it was a long time before he spoke again. 

"You have met… Lucrecia?" 

"Yes… my mother asked me to give this to you. She is in heaven now, and she wished me to tell you that there is hope… even for a sinner."

The lone gunman closed his eyes, his metal claw closing slowly, his mouth a thin line as he took in his lover's words. When he came to at last, his eyes seemed a little larger, the red stare slightly less harsh, and his features had softened considerably. 

"So… you have found out the truth then, Sephiroth?"

"Yes… that is why I am here." 

Vincent studied the former villain closely, gazing at the adopted son he might have known had he been but braver and more decisive when it had counted. The sight of Lucrecia's gift and the silver – haired man's mere presence should have reminded the embittered Turk about his lifetime of failures, the thirty lost years he had endured in the coffin. Vincent should have become more melancholy and moodier as the skeletons in his closet were exposed. Sephiroth however was surprised when Valentine stayed completely relaxed and composed, totally unaffected by the demons. He could not believe it when the man with the metal hand smiled at him. 

"It is good that you are here at last. Don't give up, Sephiroth, you are on the way… towards finding forgiveness."

The one – armed man returned to his drink. This time, he sipped the beer slowly, as if he was enjoying it for the first time, gently resting the mug on the table, the smile still on his face. 

Sephiroth frowned. He had seen this Vincent Valentine several times, and that strange fellow with the red cape was the only man in Strife's group who had not taken pleasure in killing him. This man had been the only member of Avalanche (discounting Gainsborough and her promises) who had not possessed a single dram of hatred towards him. Despite what he had done, Valentine had spoken to him only with the utmost civility… treated him just like any other person he had met… because he had known the truth. He knew a fellow sufferer when he saw one. Sephiroth did not want people to whisper words of encouragement into his ear, and would never ask anyone for sound advice, but perhaps he could trust Valentine with this question he had wanted to ask for a long time. He had been the most aloof and detached of this company, and perhaps he might receive from him a more dispassionate opinion about her. He reminded himself that he wasn't asking for advice, he was gathering _intelligence _about his enemy_._ Still, he had to pause a few times to keep himself from stuttering, and he could not help but bite her name off quickly. 

"… What can you tell me… about that… Gainsborough?"

The gunslinger turned back to him, gazing at him thoughtfully, pondering that unexpected question. 

"Aeris…? I heard from Elmyra that you are journeying with her now…" he began, ignoring the scowl that had appeared on the ex – villain's face by reflex. 

"I do not profess to know very much about her, but this little I can tell you… Aeris is an excellent travelling companion. She is brave and will not hesitate to protect the people in her party, including you… 

"You do not need to worry about her intentions, either. There was a time when one of our number betrayed the group… even though he was working for the enemy, she was the very first to forgive him. In fact, she even placed her faith in him, giving him a far greater responsibility… to summon forth the Black Materia. She bears no grudges even against those who have wronged her. When she smiles, there is no malice behind it. You may trust her implicitly. 

"Aeris may seem quite shallow and flighty at first, but she definitely knows what is important. However, even though she tries her best to remain cheerful and lively, I sense… some angst… some bitterness underneath it all. She too is searching for something. Remember that the clown can be the most cheerful person in the house… but he is often the saddest too. You might want to try to understand her better… perhaps this will ease some of the potential misgivings you may have about her." 

Vincent finished his drink, getting up silently. He leisurely pushed the folds of his cloak behind him, pulling up his scarf to eye level, casually removing one black lock from his face.

"Sephiroth… I thank you for this gift. Believe in yourself… and in her. Make Lucrecia proud of you." His voice was soft but clear, and his red eyes were glinting quietly in the smoky tungsten lamps of the bar. Slowly and with definite tread he stepped through the archway and out into the streets, the moonlight casting a long, tall shadow behind him. 

Valentine had chosen this particular moment to leave the pub, letting him reflect alone over what he had said, smoothly and artfully dodging all the questions that were coming up in his mind, leaving him to find for himself the evidence and the confirmation he wanted to have. That was better, perhaps. There was only so little that could be gained by telling him all this… he would have to keep his eyes open, and wait to be shown the rest. 

So… even Vincent Valentine, his mother's lover, the one person in Avalanche from whom he had expected an unbiased and nonpartisan view, had also vouched for that little Cetra. It was extremely disturbing, the way Gainsborough was able to win the hearts and the minds of the most unrelated and unlikely people in particular. Like Strife, she was able to influence others to think positively about her, to sympathise with her, to make them keep absolute faith in her. A dangerous foe is bad enough by himself, but he is by far the more threatening when he is able to gather the popular voice to back him up. 

It was so strange that everyone he had met was telling him the same story about her… practically everybody. He had heard nothing save far – fetched tales about how heroic, how sweet, how unselfish this mere gardener was. And now, staring out from the window, he could see a junction in the tracks his mind was riding on… a dark and unlit turning he had to consider. Were they right? Was he wrong? But so far, he had not seen the Ancient doing anything to support their assertions. True, she had asked him to spare Strife's life, but most probably it was because she wanted to protect her investment in him, if not as a lover, then as a friend. He had nothing to rely on save a few verbal accounts here and there, despite the fact that they had come from reliable sources, and he would not let down his guard until he was satisfied that this Gainsborough and her conduct was proven beyond all shadow of reasonable doubt. It could be that she had it well planned, that her propaganda campaign had been all – inclusive, covering all possible bases. He would have to stay on the well – trodden path in case this was a trap. 

Valentine had told him that there was something wrong with Gainsborough… her intentions might not be as pure as she would want her supporters to believe. She could not possibly hide everything under that meek and mild exterior, and no doubt she was up to no good. He did not want to remind himself that it was precisely because of him that the girl was enduring emotional upheaval and the problem of readjusting to life. She was certainly thinking of something unwholesome even as she licked the wounds he had given her. He would have to keep watch on her all right.

The man with the long sword got off his seat, striding quickly out of the bar. No sooner had he stepped out the door was it slammed shut and bolted fast by the barkeeper, who was adamant that he wouldn't be serving any more super late – night customers. He sighed in relief. At least they didn't try to murder him or something. Or worse, have a duel in his tavern and mess everything up with their blood and guts and vomit. Turning to the bar counter, he took the glass the black – cloaked man had used. He hadn't taken a drop of it… what the heck was going on with him? He was obviously trying to seek some relief by getting his best brew, but what could possibly ail him such that not even something hard could help him in the slightest bit? No matter, the drink was still quite viable. Going to the liquor cabinet, he carefully tipped back the contents of the glass into the bottle from whence it had come. Waste not, want not. He had just gotten some free gil, and hopefully the next patron would conserve his drink in the same way. 

*****

Despite the fact that the night was no longer young, all the lights in the corridor were switched on, making it as bright as day. But apart from that, there was absolutely nothing else that disturbed him. He was the only person here now, at two in the morning, and this suited him just fine. Those unfamiliar faces would simply stare him down again. They would see the blood on his clothes even if he washed them until they turned white. The central air – conditioning had been turned off, servicing only the patients' rooms at this moment, and he could hear only the all – too familiar ring in his ears… thank goodness he could hear his own footsteps. He didn't need to be reminded of living in _that _place, of what had happened to him earlier…

He found himself asking what he was doing here. He was a general, used to taking the fight to his enemy, confronting his foe full in the face, not sneaking around like a lowly spy. He had told himself that he was here, to conduct a _reconnaissance_ on his enemy, to see if he could find a potential flaw beneath her shining armour that he could exploit. What he had seen earlier in the day was heartening enough to make him venture again into her lair. He had hidden in a corner outside Gainsborough's room, listening to the mushy exchange between Strife and the Ancient. So that girl was not invincible after all… she too was susceptible to human emotions. Love had turned that seemingly brave and supremely confident woman into a crybaby, a blubbering milksop who had shed ignominious tears over a lost thing rather than proud blood in the field of battle. It seemed that she knew nothing about soldiery and war. 

Love was the last thing that a warrior could ill afford. Thinking of his beau in battle would distract him, opening himself to an attack from an enemy who was not fettered by such an encumbrance. Whenever a soldier went into combat, were not those men that he would be killing lovers too? They had left their wives, their girlfriends, their children at home to fight in the same way he had left his lover behind to join the war. How would he be able to fight if he were to sympathise with those whose lives he would tear apart, feel the anguish and heartbreak he would cause if he were to kill his target? His blade would be blunted, his finger would stiffen on the trigger, and he would cease to be effective as a fighter. The best swordsmen and warriors were loveless people by nature, for love and war were mutually exclusive. You could choose only one or the other. To have one, you would have to sacrifice the other permanently. That foolish young Cetra, powerful as she was, had failed to realise even this simple concept, and now, she was merely suffering for her folly and naïveté. This was her weakness. He had promised her parents not to harm her, but if that Gainsborough decided to resume the battle with him… he would not need to rely on the Masamune this time to defend himself. He would not even need to kill her to bring about her defeat… to end his suffering…

At last Sephiroth reached her room. His hand hovered above the handle for a second, but he would follow through with this course of action now. He gripped it quietly but firmly, turning it slightly but far enough for him to inch the door away from him slowly, a hair's breadth at a time, his eyes focusing into the growing blackness in front of him, his ears paying careful heed to the stillness beyond the dark portal, but nothing stirred at all. If he had not seen her wounded and heavily bandaged chest rise and fall slowly under the thick white sheets, and if he had not seen the machines at her bedside trace their endless sine waves on the black and green display screens, he would have thought that she was dead. But the Ancient was merely asleep.

Finally the door was fully open, and he carried out his entry step by step, the rubber soles on his knee – length boots concealing his encroaching presence. Now he was one foot away from Gainsborough, and the light was flowing in, bright enough to see her features clearly, but not glaring enough to wake her up. At last he could behold his sworn enemy up close and personal for the very first time. 

Her face was small and heart – shaped, and as he looked closer, he was surprised to see that her skin was completely clean and free of any form of fault at all. There were no freckles, no spots, not even a single mole. She was as pale as marble, and her complexion was smoother than water and softer than milk. Her chin was small, yet not pointed and her nose was delicate and finely shaped, without a single sharp edge. Those large doe eyes of hers were closed at the moment, her lids like curtains draped over those wondrous weapons that lay within, her long lashes fine little tassels waiting to be pulled and drawn open. Every muscle on her face was relaxed, her brows sloped gently downwards, and her tiny, rose – red lips were softly and lightly closed, betraying no hint of the emotional breakdown he had witnessed earlier in the day. Her hair had been let down, and the long brown tresses spilled over her shoulders, covering her ears, flowing down her back in one voluminous wave, each individual strand swaying slightly in the light breeze that blew from above. In other words, she was in a state of complete repose and absolute peace. 

He wondered for a moment why the Planet had given his worst enemy such sheer loveliness and luminous charm. She was evil in its prettiest form. Even stranger was how such a devious imp like her could appear so clear and tranquil even when she was not on her guard, for even the most villainous characters were able to keep their expressions closed and impenetrable while they were conscious, but they could not maintain such a degree of control even when they were not awake. But he knew why this was so, and he could not help but envy the fact that her spirit, strong as it was, had been allowed to fly upwards, spending the night in another plane, while her body rested and waited in absolute bliss for the next day to come. It seemed unfair that even a sinner like her was allowed to find succor in sleep, yet he was plagued by those ghosts every time he closed his eyes. 

Sephiroth had seen her like this only one other time, in the not – so – distant past… he was in the Forgotten Capital then, sitting high up in one of the lifeless coral trees above the shell house. In the shade of the half – light he had watched Strife place his lover's remains in the lake. Even though she had come to a violent end upon the Masamune, she had still maintained a semblance of perfect contentment and calmness. She did not look dead at all, but appeared as if she had only been sleeping, as if those eyes of hers would spring open as soon as she hit the cold water. Even in death, the sickly – sweet smile had stayed on her face. And when the puppet reluctantly released her body at last, he saw her sink quietly into the depths. Her hair, freed from her ribbon, had spread out slowly and curled out under her, like a pair of angel's wings, wrapping itself over her small and slight figure. Her hands came up slowly, as if she was begging Strife not to let her go… 

She had been at her most beautiful at this very last moment, just before the lake enfolded itself over its eternal charge. For just a second, he had felt something alien rise in him, something gnaw at his conscience. Was he actually feeling sad that he'd destroyed this vision of loveliness? But he had pushed that wimpish thought aside instantly. His "mother" had told him that she was but another of those fallen ones, that she had deserved this fate by pretending to be a Cetra, and he had promptly dismissed this incident out of hand. But now, now that he knew better… had it been right for him to strip the Planet of this natural wonder, this flawless treasure? Was it not cruel of him to have ruined the lives and the future of those two lovebirds, made the two of them live together forever with sadness and regret? But all was fair in love and war. No doubt she would have known and accepted the risks of carrying out a suicide mission like this. She had chosen the warrior's path to defeat him, and to do so she had given up her lover in order to gain the power to bring about his destruction. Gainsborough had only herself to blame for her current plight. 

He detected the slightest hint of movement, and he realised that she had opened her eyes. He found himself staring deeply into those angel eyes, but he assured himself that it was still safe to do so at the moment. Even as she returned to a state of wakefulness, her spirit was still travelling back to its mortal dwelling, and it would be a moment before the intelligence returned to them. Yet they were already working their magic on him. Those bright aquamarine jewels were impossibly large, almost filling up the entire space from the upper to the lower lids, and he could see that they were patterned like a rose, mysterious and difficult to unravel. In the centre of it all, her pupils were small, and looking within, he could see, glowing far under the depths, the little spark that was always alive in her. The whites of her eyes were clear and shining, the blood vessels finer than even a hair and almost invisible. And the very shape of her eyes – from the tearducts her upper eyelids sloped gently upwards before falling steeply to the sides, while its counterpart below went rapidly downwards at the onset before making a slight curve back up, joining the former to become the perfect case for storing and displaying those priceless green gems within. Those strange layered lids made her eyes very wide indeed, and their shape was such that they would always portray a perpetual expression of pure wonder and strangeness. 

He then noticed the unearthly, unwholesome glint coming back into her eyes, and he cursed himself for staring at them too long. There was no way he could retreat or make a dignified escape now. He had been caught by her spell, and now he would have to stay and pay the price. She began to smile… yet again. But this time, he noticed two small depressions forming on her cheeks. Those dimples were showing now, and he was suddenly reminded of that little girl he'd seen so many years ago…

"Sephiroth… I knew you'd come… Thank you for saving me."

The voice. Her eyes and her voice. This was a powerful magic that was known even before the Cetra came to this world, even before they learned how to control the Planet's powers, long before materia was born. She knew how to use it, and she had nearly trapped him this time. He turned away from Gainsborough quickly, closing his eyes, his hands stiffening at his side as he tried to suppress an urge to cover his ears. He would not fall for her charm. If he had not hidden (like the treacherous snake he knew he was) and observed her earlier, he would have thought that his enemy was indeed a cold – blooded creature, able to resist anything at all, but now he knew better. She was as vulnerable as he was, but she was merely putting on an act. At least his chances of winning the fight were better now.

"I shall make this clear, Gainsborough. I do not do this for you. You are fortunate indeed that I owe your relatives a debt of gratitude, otherwise I would have simply left you to die."

He began to step through the doorway, but not before she could fix him in her sights and end it with a parting shot.

"You wouldn't have done that, Sephiroth… but you just don't want to admit it, that's all. There's no need to be angry about this… because I know you really aren't."

The door slammed loudly behind Aeris, and she was left alone to herself again. She had managed to look straight into him at long last. This was the villain who had killed her, the murderer who had placed her in this very quandary. Yet why did she not feel sad at his very presence, and why did she not feel angry the moment she set eyes on him? This was the one who had opened her heart to the darkness, made her understand what pain really was, what sacrifice really meant, giving her bloody instructions that she never wanted to hear about. But what she had seen, if only just for one ephemeral flash in time, had given her pause.

Sephiroth's appearance had been so different from all the times that she had seen him. This time, his face seemed much less contorted, far less constricted than before. His head had been slightly bowed as he had looked at her, and his brows, thick and white and fluid as if they had been painted with a calligraphy brush, were sloping acutely downwards, almost meeting the eyes. His mouth was one long, thin line, devoid for once of the trademark smirk that had been second nature to him. The swordsman's hair was straight and drawn behind his back, and his bangs were far longer than hers, reaching down to his neck. Even as he was silhouetted by the light behind him, she could see his long mane glitter slightly, shining like a river of liquid platinum. The light breeze coming from the air – conditioning vents reached him too, and slowly this metallic sea shifted from right to left, not a strand out of place, cold but somehow alive. His face was fair and free of scars, his chin was sharp, his nose long and slightly pointed. The pale lips were pursed, yet they were not tightly drawn together as they always were. He had been lost in serious contemplation, and even as he was silhouetted by the light streaming in behind him, he seemed to her… very deep, black and brooding, almost like… a dark cloud. 

And she had seen his eyes… they were small and narrow crescents, yet wide enough for him to observe his surroundings with superb clarity. They were a clear light turquoise, deeply lined like the spokes of a wheel, all drawing her towards the centre, where his pupils were dilated, taking more of the dim light around him, hungering to discover everything around him. Yet as her gaze went deeper, examining the expanding black spheres closer… she felt as if she was falling into a tunnel without an end, a vacuum filled with deepest space… it was as she was staring into the infinite mysteries of the cosmos that the Black Materia held within its secret recesses. And that green ghostly sheen that covered everything… how could she ever forget that strange glow? It was bright and piercing, yet it was as not harsh as it always had been. Those eyes were careful and watchful, always ready to close at a moment's alarm, always ready to change if someone tried to plumb their depths to find out what was within, yet they were searching intently, looking for something that was still missing, something that could fill that void… They so lovely, yet so dark… they were the eyes of a fallen angel…

So… was this really the person she had been hoping to see all along? This time, she had not seen the picture of confidence and poise that had characterised him as a general and the consummate warrior. Jealousy and arrogance, the mark of a knave and a villain, did not mar his features this time. This was the human who was keeping the secrets of the past locked within him. This was the man who was climbing to the light. Free of its mask, the face beneath was well sculpted, possessing a certain fine and elfin quality about it. There was something new about him that she'd never seen before. 

The flower maiden was feeling drowsy again… a nurse had come in hours earlier, giving her an injection, telling her that she would feel better in a while. For a long time she had resisted the poison in her blood, trying to hold off the depressants that were making her heart stay silent, slowing down her breathing, forcing her mind into unconsciousness… She didn't want to sleep, but she had no strength to fight, and she had fallen back into that same dream again, seeing those eyes again, looking at that face again. Yes, it was so unexpected to see her worst enemy staring at her the moment she regained her senses, but strangely she felt as if she had been pleasantly awakened from her sleep. She had seen the moon; it was cold, and the light it gave was muted, yet somewhat… welcoming. He reminded her of an anti – hero, those grim and errant knights who were forever immortalised in the stories she had always loved to read.

The blackness caught up with her, and just before she was spirited away, she could not help but notice how much Sephiroth had in common with someone she knew once, how much the one – winged angel resembled him…

Even as Aeris slept, the smile on her face did not freeze… 

__

A/N: Ah! At last! A chapter up after so long! I must be getting writer's block! But I hope this is long enough to keep you entertained for a little while.

I'll just talk about the little nitty bits that inspired me to add more wordy bulk to this chapter. Remember that famous pix with Aeris looking at the Highwind from a distance? It's quite emotive in its little way. She longs to take to the skies, to ride on the airship. It's as if she wants something more out of life, a new and better experience than what she's doing right now, stuck on the tarmac. Sadly, as we all know, she wasn't able to realise her dreams. In fact, as Cloud stated later, she has to give them all up for the Planet's benefit. It's ironic that Cloud said this… on the bridge of the Highwind, on which he promised her to take her on. It's so sad; you can dream of something, but you can never hope to achieve it due to circumstances beyond your control. 

I also decided to add my views on one esoteric little bone of contention in FF7; why doesn't Aeris bleed when she gets struck by the Masamune, while Sephiroth looks all gross and bloody when Cloud slices him up? It could be that the Masamune is a holy sword, and I decided to tweak that idea just a bit. Makes Sephy fear and respect her just a little bit more.

"A love that can never be." I went across one Cloud / Aeris site (I may have told you about this already) with a number of articles speaking about their love affair, and one said that this phrase came from an early FF7 commercial. Another article talks about the theme (how noble!) of how people try to fight against the inevitable and the impossible, and I wondered if the thought - provoking advertisement was connected with this theme. Yet another writer points to evidence within the game, arguing that Cloud does not stop loving her even after she dies (the author said that all the lines he spoke in remembrance of Aeris is 1/3 the total number he speaks to Tifa in Disc 2 and 3!). It is also implied that in the end, Cloud decides to search for her in the Promised Land, even though it's not clear exactly how he'll do it, since the Promised Land is supposedly a place accessible only after death, and you need to be an Ancient to go there. The article went on to say that this theme is often explored in Japanese film and drama, and in one 17th century play, two lovers, unable to be together due to the strife between their families, go into the woods together to commit seppuku (ritual suicide). Cloud had to make a choice; to chase a potentially unattainable dream (finding Aeris, wherever she is), or accepting reality and making the practical choice to take Tifa. But in my story, Cloud sadly gives up looking for her, and marries Teef. Is he to be blamed for doing so? Is Aeris justified in blaming him for losing faith in her?

"………" This is the infamous phrase which is said in every FF game. Another article on that site (I must really look for the URL again) talked at length about symbolism and Japanese culture in the game, and after reading it, there was so much that I'd never noticed while playing the game. The authors of the game drew heavily on Japanese ideas, motifs and symbols to put their ideas across. For example, Aeris is dressed in pink and red, which are the colours of love to the Japanese, while Tifa is dressed in more sombre colours, like black and white (white is the colour of death). Cloud does not speak very often, and expresses his feelings more in the form of gestures such as scratching his head, and does not speak of his love to Aeris, as the Japanese feel that such deep feelings should never be spoken out loud, that the best way to put your message across is through your conduct, and rather, what you don't say. Silence also takes on added meaning, perhaps more than what can be said, as the person who holds his peace is contemplating what you have just said, and he is taking your words to heart. Note that Aeris never says this "word" during the course of the game, so I guess this can be a bit out of character to some. 

Oh… and the red specks coming out of Sephy's armour is dried blood, not rust, as my sister, who saw that little line, so nicely pointed out to me…=)

To my readers: THANK YOU for waiting so patiently for me to update!

__

To NuregoftheElves:

You have given me high praise… almost too high in fact. Tetsuya Nomura was a genius, and I don't see how I will ever be able to write epics like him… if you want something better than mine try Zahra's Snow Fields fic… looking at it makes me see how far more I have to go. Oh well… if my work was flawless, I would win a Booker Prize every year… heh heh. Thanks for making my day, at any rate!

__

To Starfall4790:

Sephy being cute? I guess he just doesn't want to admit it. Cloud as the "slum drunk"? Yeah, I considered that idea when writing the chapter, and I wanted to laugh at that idea… you don't see dead people everyday, and he was already quite badly hurt to boot, so he'd probably swoon away… "Aeris… this can't be real!" Then again, Cloud is made of sterner stuff, and you really wouldn't expect him to pass out just because he sees his dead girlfriend, so I guess his behaviour here is slightly OOC, but I made him tune out to serve a more practical purpose… imagine Sephiroth and Cloud fighting over the right to bring Aeris to hospital! Sephy promised her not to kill him, but that didn't mean that he had to save him, after all… Cloud is his enemy after all.

__

To Chibi Taryn Demon:

Thank goodness you added my fic to your fave list, otherwise you'd have to check back every now and then and that can be slightly tedious. I hope you were sufficiently overjoyed to see the "Author Alert" message! I myself am hoping that my story will go well… I obviously want to write something good, am currently trying to sift out the fruit punch in the head and see whether I can scrape something off the bottom. 

__

To Starling94:

How will Squall and Rinoa turn out in their new world? Will Riona die? Is this going to be an Aeriseph too? Cloud being the blond - haired bad guy… now this is something new. Cloud / Edea. Very unconventional indeed. Update A Plot Between Two Worlds soon!

__

To EnchantedMiko:

Yes… this is sad… and I hope this chapter is sufficiently tearjerking… I've watched too many Hongkong swordfighting dramas where the good guy and the bad guy clobber each other, the girl likes both of them, and really doesn't want to see any of them die, so she goes forward and gets stabbed by one of them. The combat ends, and both guys decide not to hurt each other for a while. You see, I lack creativity, so I make do with what I know, so don't think too highly of me (or my false modesty at any rate). This idea sounded so fun to put in writing, and I'm quite happy it turned out quite all right. Yes, I will definitely continue… I want to continue…

__

To Homunculus:

This is a late chapter because my term has just started. Sorry for the delay. Congrats on getting to college. Study hard. I'm not hitting the books though everyone else is doing so. Great. I'll either die, or worse, get expelled.

Sephy _is _very mushy here. And not to mention highly unreasonable and stubborn. But the mushier he gets, the more you think of him as a human being, not a monster out to take over the Planet's energy.

Man, the Cid/Aerith idea is damned appealing. But I am already working on this fic, and this idea will have to sit on the backburner for a long while I think. 

Getting Kairi out of the way isn't too hard, give her to Riku. But Cloud might possibly raise some grievous objections to Sora making out with Aerith. Getting spikey out of the way is the hard part.

__

To Falling Rain:

(Whisper): I didn't take Aeris very seriously at first, too. But the more I look at her, the more I observe her mannerisms and behaviour in the game, and what she says, I think she should be every guy's dream girl! Cloud / Tifa is a very good pairing, make no mistake, but things can become quite grim sometimes since they're both very moody and withdrawn. On the other hand, Aeris will cheer Cloud up no end, to the point of distraction perhaps. I think a nice girl like Aerith should get a nice guy like Cloud, but isn't Tifa a nice person too? I guess it's a matter of personal choice… do you prefer the strong and silent type, or the sickeningly sweet and giggly girl? 

__

To Crow T R0bot:

Earlier on, I used a version of the script found on a popular website, but sadly, it was incomplete. I got a better copy, and after reading it, I guess it can be construed both ways; it can be said that Sephy is really Hojo's son, or, as JenesisX proposes, Sephy was the ultimate result of Vinny's secret liaison. Oh well, at least my error doesn't seem so bad now, I guess. 

Oh… Frankenstein is a joke… the disclaimer was also meant to fulfill a secondary purpose of making the reader laugh… especially about the part with the Chibi - Aeriths!

__

To the Constructicons:

Yes… I agree that the teletubbies are so sickeningly goody - goody, they're evil! The mere sight of them makes my blood turn to brake fluid. Gah! Why mess things up when you can ask someone else to do it for you?

__

To Phantom Kensai:

Do not weep… I could not complete the FF games without a walkthrough… FF7 is difficult to master, and it's almost impossible to get everything right, like saving all the Huge Materia or defeating all the Weapons, or getting 5000+ points for Speed Square (I had an emulator, so I slowed down the frame rate, and ta - da! I managed to get Aeris' Umbrella (for whatever good it did)). 

Don't go so hard on Aaron Allston… I would consider him giving a nod to FF7, and how good it is… she's the bad girl, and Professor Gast is a good guy, no matter what he did in the game. Does Edda Gast have a daughter called Aerith, by any chance? I've not read the book (stopped reading X-Wing after Michael Stackpole stopped writing the series), are there any more FF7 connections? Interesting.


	13. Chapter 13: The Ties that Bind

****

OF A PURE HEART, A FALLEN KNIGHT AND THE ONE – WINGED ANGELS

__

----------------------------------------- Disclaimer: ------------------------------------------

To the Reader and the Lawyers:

Final Fantasy VII, and all the characters, including Aeris and Sephiroth, Cloud, Tifa, Barret, Vincent, Yuffie, Red, Cid, Cait Sith (Reeve), Ifalna, Professor Gast, Lucrecia, Professor Hojo Frankenstein, Jenova the Mad, Rufus Schizoprenoid, Don Corneo the Horny (any anyone I may have inadvertently missed out) are property of Square Enix Co, formerly Squaresoft LLC. Tell me if my disclaimer ain't good enough. I will reward you with a few thousand Chibi - Vincents depressed to the nadir with Tranqulisers, and they shall cause a wet blanket to hang over your house and generally expose you to the… darker side of your nature (You know how angsty Vincent can be from the fanfics here, so I'm taking this concept one step further… a Chibi - Vincent would probably behave in the same fashion). 

****

To other Fanfic Writers (This is more important!) Plagiarism Note:

There are a lot of Aeriseph fanfics around here. I've tried my best to stay as original as possible, but it's a bit hard to write this type of story without treading on someone's toes by accident along the line. Please, if you feel that I may have 'borrowed' some of your concepts or ideas by mistake, notify me immediately. **Email** a "cease and desist" message to me, point out where I have gone wrong, and I will act immediately to remove or modify the offending section(s). 

Thank you very, very much for your understanding and tolerance. 

Red XIII: It would be fair, just and reasonable to read the following chapter as opposed to deciding on a course of action against the author.

__

THE TIES THAT BIND 

****

Note: This chapter contains potentially suggestive and offensive language. Don't take them to heart, it's a PG - 13 fic, after all.

Time had passed slowly for the young flower girl. Wounded by Sephiroth's sword, she had lain blissfully unconscious for a week, and when she finally awakened, she had found that she was still stuck between life and death, forced to confront what was left of her past life… and made to see what her future existence entailed. Now the sedatives, a blessing in disguise for her, had finally worn off, and she had been fully awake for only half a day since then, but it seemed to her that she had been staying for another week in this painful cheerless room. 

A doctor had come in a while after she had awakened, and he had broken the bad news to her. The damage inflicted by the Masamune was permanent. The blade had punctured her lung, and the surgeons who had treated her were no more successful in stopping the massive bleeding than the man who had stabbed her. They had been left with only one choice to save her life, and now she was left with only one lung to sustain her life with.

The physician had, not unkindly, told her that she would have to avoid all strenuous activity from now on, since she would become exhausted very quickly and easily, and her little heart sank as she considered the restrictions that were now thrust upon her. Did this mean that she would no longer be able to see the world or travel with her friends, do all the things she had ever wanted after she had come back? Would she be confined to this bed forever, treated like an invalid until she died again? It never rains, but pours, it seemed. But the doctor had seen her look down at the thick covers, and he was quick to console her, saying that, given enough time and enough rest, she would be able to adapt to this loss of function, and she might be able to return to what she had been doing before the accident occurred… one day. But as much as the Cetra girl wanted to believe the surgeon's words, hope to her was at a premium, especially after everything that had happened, and she dared not expect anything to turn out right now.

Cloud, too, had been admitted to the Sanatorium, as he had been wearing a pair of hospital pajamas when he visited her the day before, but he had not come to see her since she had chased him away. This was better perhaps. She did not know what would happen if she were to be brought into close contact with her former boyfriend again. She had almost lost it then… she really didn't want to make him sadder than he already was… and she didn't want to be driven to tears again…

Aeris wished for perhaps the hundredth time that she could leave this most unwelcome place. She was doing virtually nothing here, and left to herself, she would turn into a vegetable, unable to do anything but dwell repetitively on the things that she wanted to wall in, divert herself away from… She wanted to do something that could distract her even remotely from what was going through her mind now, but now, she could only think, over and over again without a break, without a pause, about the pain… the sadness… and the angel eyes…

It was then that the door swung aside slowly, and a sister entered, her court shoes making her sound as if she had just floated in. She set about her tasks with great deliberateness and economy of movement, which made her as silent as a soldier creeping up towards his objective, as she, as a young nurse, had appreciated quickly the need to preclude the unhappy accusations of patients who were wrongfully awakened from their sleep and the physical abuse from more difficult people who, by virtue of their conditions and their diminished ability to be reasonable, were exceptionally sensitive to the slightest sound. 

She saw that her young patient was awake and sitting up in bed, and had recovered enough of her composure to listen to her. She adjusted her spectacles, and greeted the Ancient good – afternoon with a smile. 

"I'm glad to see that you're feeling better, Miss Gainsborough. You were in quite a bad way yesterday, and we felt that you needed a bit of rest. You haven't had anything since you woke up, so I took the liberty to deliver some lunch to you."

"… Thank you," the green – eyed girl mumbled, staring at the eiderdown again. She could not understand the conundrum that was lurking underneath that black cloak, what was driving the mind hidden from view, or what was making the heart hidden beneath it beat. He had acted gallantly to save her life, yet he still behaved like a knave. He seemed so withdrawn, yet the emotions within him were always struggling for release. He wanted to know more about her… but he still didn't consider her as a friend.

The nurse reached under the bed, flipping up a set of hinged boards, unfolding it such that it formed a collapsible table. She adjusted a thumbscrew at the side, lowering the wooden surface until it was comfortably level with the girl's elbows. A tray was placed on the table, and a large bowl, a spoon and a napkin suddenly appeared in front of the white mage. The cover was removed amidst a sudden haze of white heated moisture, and the delicious aroma of cooked meat, lightened with a stock of boiled herbs and spices quickly filled the room. The sister frowned. Good food was hard to come by in a hospital, and every patient she had seen would not hesitate to help himself immediately, but Aeris just stared absently at the bowl, now that the table was blocking her view of the sheets, her hands unconsciously kneading and twisting the covers. No doubt she had taken the doctor's news none too kindly, and it was definitely sad enough for a sprightly, vibrant young woman like her. But help was on the way, and perhaps she would feel a little more encouraged by then.

"You must have some of the soup, it'll make you feel better. Do cheer up, your friends will be visiting you shortly."

The Ancient, shaken out of her momentary reverie, looked up at the sister. She had almost forgotten about them again.

"… My friends?" 

"Yes, your pals are dropping by later, and they're all very happy that you're alive and recovering well, so there's no excuse for you to pull such a long face. Don't forget about the food, it's getting cold. I'll be seeing another patient now, so remember to press the button if you need my help."

The nurse slid away like a wraith and the door swung closed behind her almost as if an invisible poltergeist was controlling its movements. She had gone as unobtrusively as she had come. 

Her friends were coming. She'd always wanted to see her companions again, but they could not see her like this. A reunion was supposed to be a joyous occasion. It would not be fair to them if she were to be the wet blanket and dampen their mood. She didn't want everything to turn into a bad soap opera. She had to keep everyone happy. So, what else could she do? She would have to mount the stage again. The play would have to go on, whether she wanted or not, whether she was ready or not. 

Aeris was not feeling hungry at all, but she had to eat, if only because she couldn't leave any evidence behind. It quickly became a mechanical process, as she fed spoonful after spoonful into her mouth, forcing herself to swallow the soup. Despite the fact that the food was delicious, she did not taste it at all. She was merely eager to get it out of the way as quickly as she could. Her lips crinkled slightly as she tried to practice a few smiles. One eyelid fell shut, rising again slowly as she attempted an emphatic wink. She had to be ready for them… or she had at least tried to reach some semblance of readiness… 

She did not have to wait very long before her visitors started filing in. The nurse came in again, removing the crockery and folding away the table before vanishing for good. A moment later, the first member of Avalanche entered the room, his lips peeled back in something that approximated a grin… 

An exotic animal rode up gamely to greet her. He was large and four – legged, his shock of striking orange – red fur making him stand out prominently in the dull cream and white décor of the Sanatorium. The lion – creature craned his head, regarding the girl intently. One eye was milky and dull, the light taken away from it by a vicious slash years ago, the other was a bright orange, its light making up for the dimness of the eye that was not. Unbelievably enough, the club – shaped tuft of fur that tipped the beast's tail actually seemed to be _on fire_, a smokeless orange – yellow flame burning soundlessly, casting a faint, lamp – like glow as it swished slowly from side to side. 

The creature stopped a few feet from the Cetra girl's bed, pausing to sample the air around him. The air – conditioning had ensured that the smell of chicken soup would linger for hours to come, but still the aroma of the Ancient remained undiminished. Satisfied that it was indeed his long – lost teammate who was in front of him, he loped across the remaining distance, reaching her bedside, and the animal stood up on its hind legs, extending a large paw the size of a fist towards her. The flower seller quickly grabbed his paw with her sweaty hand, and she patted his head, taking his silver comb and smoothing out his long red mane with it as she had always done long ago to tease him. He snapped and growled at her with mock ferocity, trying at the same time to reconcile the sight that defied all reasoning and deduction. 

"We have all missed you sorely, Aeris."

She continued to run her fingers along his rough furry hide. Nanaki, or Red XIII, as everyone else preferred to call him, was the last member of a proud and ancient race, the guardian and protector of Cosmo Canyon, and he did not relish being treated like a common pet. However, he had long realised that it was but a common human trait to show consideration and affection to a friend, and he had eventually allowed her to play with him. Red, like her, had wanted to know more of his heritage and the truth about his lineage, for he had been orphaned when he was very young, and his tutor had known only so much about his kin. However, the sentient beast still believed staunchly that someone else was waiting somewhere out there, and he had refused to give up after all that time alone. But how about her? 

The next two guests announced themselves with the bursting sound of vibrating wood and metal as the door was slammed hard against the wall. The hinges shook for a while and bits of plaster were sprinkled all over the shiny tiled floor. 

"Hey, watch it, 'foo!"

"Shit you! If you hadn't pushed me forward!"

In spite of her current mood, Aeris could not suppress a smile as the two mismatched men stepped in. Squeezing through the doorway was a lean and dirty – looking aviator, a burly, swarthy man bringing up the rear a little too close for comfort. The latter had an amazingly well – muscled chest and his arms were large and sinewy, toughened from years of work in the coal mines of Corel Village. If Red XIII's paw was huge, his fist was even bigger. He had only one arm, though, for the other had been severed at the wrist during a fight with the Shinra. But Barret Wallace remained unbowed even though he had become an amputee, and he had installed a large gatling gun in the place of his right hand, and continued the struggle to bring down the tyrannical power company. The big man's brows were always creased, his eyes always small and beady, and his lips were always pressed tightly together. However, Barret's expression softened somewhat the moment he saw the young woman known to her daughter as the "Flower Lady", and he cleared his throat, grunting slightly as he tried to find some appropriate words to speak to Marlene's benefactress. 

"Yo, flower babe! Great to have ya back!" was all he could scrape together under the circumstances. He went to the other side of the bed, and Aeris quickly found the air squeezed out of her good lung as Barret, himself resembling a human bear, crushed her in one of his trademark hugs that, if he was in good enough cheer and high enough spirits, could cause some mild cracking of his unsuspecting recipient's ribs. 

Gasping for breath, she barely managed a chuckle. "I'm glad to be here, too… how's Marlene?" she managed. 

"My little girl? She's been beggin' me day and night to let her see ya! She'll be over da moon seein' her dear friend again!" His mouth split open in a large grin, exposing a full set of yellowed teeth, divided at times by a hint of gold or two, or three, or four, or five. Barret almost never smiled, but apparently, seeing the young Ancient again simply made him do so.

"So am I, man! Life was one big freaking @#*,'&~ mess without you around!" Cid Highwind added his two cents' worth and more as he uttered a string of imprecations that sometimes did not fail to make Barret the sailor blush. He adjusted the headband of his aviator goggles, which were sitting tightly above his eyebrows. His chin was bristling with spiky stubble, and his dirty blond hair was oily and unkempt. His shortfall in the personal decorum department, along with his smoking habits and his marked propensity for incessant recitation of multiple – lettered words ensured that the most reasonable and prudent woman would think several times before taking him up on a date, but still (Red was still trying to figure out why, even though it went against the grain of all conceivable logic), he had actually won himself a girlfriend (of sorts), who was waiting back in Rocket Town, albeit with a pot of tea on twenty – four hour standby. 

Even as Cid continued his blustering tirade, Aeris noticed a dark shadow lurking at the corner of her vision, and she turned to the left to see… a man dressed completely in black, save for a scarlet cloak and bandanna, standing right beside the "Captain" of Rocket Town. Cid and Barret were not exactly the visitors the hospital staff had been told to expect, but the former leader of Avalanche had merely pressed on, ignoring the nurses' complaints and the hands trying to restrain him, and the gruff pilot had, with a string of derogatory and controversial comments, blazed himself a path too. Amidst the chaos in the Intensive Care Unit, Vincent had simply walked past everyone. He saw that the flower girl had noticed him, and he nodded his head by way of greeting, gazing at her grimly with his permanently reddened eyes. 

Aeris found herself creasing the bedlinen, and she quickly withdrew her hands. The two of them had not come yet. She had been expecting them to be the first to arrive… yet somehow she was hoping that they wouldn't come at all. 

But they came. Cloud stumbled through the doorway at Tifa's behest. The former barmaid flashed her a loose grin, grasping the limp hand of the flower seller she'd met in Midgar so long ago. However, her hand too, like her wounded friend's, was chill and wet. She was met with a quick nod from her one – time bodyguard. His features were unreadable as they always were, but still his lovely cerulean eyes spoke otherwise. They drew back, standing at the side of her bed, near enough to hear her speak, yet out of her sight. She sighed inwardly. They were so kind, so thoughtful to her. They wanted to spare her further anguish, but they had obligations to fulfill, and they were unable to leave her be, as much as she was unable to set eyes upon those two… lovers…

Amazingly, the rest of Avalanche was so caught up with the sight of Aeris being actually alive that they were totally obtuse to what was going on at the side. In a way that was good. There would not be any… questions then. Questions that all three of them did not want to venture an answer to… much less to have them answered.

The room stayed silent for several moments, and she heard several soft sounds as she heard Cloud scratching his head and Tifa's shoe tracing circles on the floor. Fortunately, Red could contain his curiosity no longer. He stepped back, shaking his head, the orange fur on his shoulders rippling up and down in a vague approximation of a human shrug. 

"Try as I might, I can find no way to explain your return from the dead, Aeris. How is it that you live and breathe?"

Her chest complained a little as she took in a deep breath, trying to gather the fragmented figments of her mind together, trying to piece together what had happened in the past year into a coherent sentence.

"After… I died, I stayed behind in the Lifestream for a while… I could watch everyone from afar, but… I'm sorry I couldn't be with you… I couldn't help you at all…"

"Wait… but when Holy failed, you were the one who called up the Lifestream, right?" Tifa interjected, fixing a wide – eyed gaze at her.

The petite little gardener nodded, a slight hint of colour appearing on her cheeks. 

"Yes… I suppose so… I didn't do very much…"

"That's where you're wrong, Aeris. You were the one who saved the Planet in the end. You saved us all." Cloud's wife was quick to correct her, and there was nothing but… respect? or admiration? in those wine – coloured eyes… 

Aeris pressed her hands to her face, the clammy palms cooling her fast reddening cheeks, trying to continue. Even her worst rival did not consider her as an enemy. Tifa had come here not to bury her, but praise her. The gentle barmaid was merely telling her to be practical, to appreciate fully what she had done. Her best friend was pointing out that none of them would be around if she hadn't died, asking her not to dwell so much on what she had lost, but rather to think about why she had done the deed in the first place. She had at least managed to avert the tragedy and hardship that would have been visited upon everyone had the Meteor struck. Had her death actually served a purpose after all? 

"Please, do continue. We are eager to know more," Red urged, his ears pricking up, his tail flicking around faster. 

"Once Meteor was gone, I was asked to return to the Planet… I went into the Promised Land, and there, I met Lucrecia… Sephiroth's mother. The Planet had spoken to her, and she was told that I was the only one who could help him atone for his sins… and she begged me to save him. He would have to be reborn, and I had to become his companion and his guide. I… agreed… and that was how we came back…"

"That BLOODY @%^&@!"

"You're kiddin' me!"

Cloud snarled, the green – tinged eyes flaring. "Aeris… you can't be serious! You're putting yourself in danger again… to help that bastard! That monster who murdered you! And what did he do to you the very first moment you come back to life? Do you really think he'll be sorry for what he's done? "

Tifa was silent, yet her hand slid across her tank top, tracing the path of the horrible slash the silver – haired villain had left upon her. Even though six years had passed since the fateful night that had tied her path inextricably to Cloud's, the wound had never fully healed, and it would still hurt sometimes. Her best friend, too, had suffered under the black sword, but she was taking the pain it had caused so admirably… so bravely… like the fine young woman she was. Like the flowers in the church, the girl who grew them did not wilt and die amidst the tragedies she had faced. The flower merchant was so resilient, so tenacious, so bright, so lively, so colourful… she had envied her sometimes. These were qualities she and her husband lacked, and that was perhaps why Cloud had been drawn to Aeris in the first place. She wouldn't admit it, not even to her own husband, but she knew that if her companion had survived, she would have had no chance at all to walk away with the boy whose affections she had once spurned.

"Hmm… positively amazing. Totally unexpected."

Vincent wrapped the cloak about himself, his eyes closed, yet just before his face was obscured in the protective red folds, Aeris could have sworn that she saw him wink at her…

"Cloud… don't hold that against him. Sephiroth is no longer under Jenova's influence. He's just been horribly misguided, that's all. There is still good in him… I can feel it. We should give him another chance. Please trust me."

The man with golden hair was about to speak up again, but he heard the firmness and strength in her voice. He had heard her speak like this only once, in the Sleeping Forest, and then she had inspired perfect confidence in him, made him believe wholeheartedly that she would be able to avert the calamity that hung over them… His faith in her had been well placed, but neither of them had been prepared to ever comprehend what had happened afterwards… was it actually possible to feel both assured and afraid at the same time?

"I don't know, Aeris… I really don't know… you may be right, but I've got a very bad feeling about this," Cloud conceded with a shrug and a grunt, his hands unconsciously reaching behind his bandaged and aching shoulder for an Ultima Weapon that wasn't there. "He was a decent guy before that mission… but I for one find it hard to believe he'll turn over a new leaf so quickly." 

"Whoa… kinda strange of you, spikey, actually keeping your head straight and level this time… but I'll skewer that #%&@* if he does so much as water the trees out of my sight." Almost by reflex, Cid reached for his headband, yanking out a filterless cigarette from its rather squashed package. Red glared at him, for Cid had tried several times in the past to light his smokes on the lion – beast's tail (surprisingly enough, even though the tail appeared to be alight, it did not set fire to anything it touched). The Guardian of Cosmo drew the line at being used as a household appliance. The pilot reached into his flight jacket for a lighter, but then he felt an abnormally cold and hard hand restrain him gently.

"… That won't do her any good," Vincent admonished, glancing at the girl's wrapped chest. 

The scruffy man realised his mistake, and cleared his throat, coughing and sputtering slightly. "Sorry about that, flower gal," he mumbled hastily. A giggle escaped from Aeris, and she covered her mouth coyly. She didn't feel that tense now, perhaps. That was what she had come back for.

The ding – a – ling of a small bell suddenly interrupted their conversation, and the dull rumble of several heavy footsteps could be heard. An outsized stuffed toy and its monochrome – furred rider appeared, pressing itself through the doorway with a few small grunts, and it began to waddle quickly towards the girl in the bed, Cid and Red having to move out of the way or risk receiving a face full of whitish – pink skin.

This was Cait Sith, a toy cat that always went around mounted atop a giant Moogle doll. While Cait was the speaker and the brains of the outfit, the Moogle was the strong and silent partner. Easily the weirdest member of their company, the cat and his moogle were both robots, controlled by an ex – Shinra employee named Reeve. Cait was the only one among them who did not fear death – he was but a machine, and only Reeve's mouthpiece. It was no secret that the former Head of Urban Development kept several spares ready to replace the robot against the possibility that the original Cait was destroyed, which was the case when the Temple had been metamorphosed into the Black Materia, destroying everything within it.

"Whaddya want, parking yer big fat ass up here?"

Cait had played the role of a double agent, supplying them with inside information about the machinations of their enemies, and at the same time telling his masters about their whereabouts. His cover had been blown when Cloud and Aeris saw him hand to Tseng of the Turks the Keystone, a special item needed to access the Temple of the Ancients. The blond fighter had wanted to kill him on the spot (even though that action would have been of limited utility), but the furry golem had forced them to keep him in the party, as he was holding Marlene and Elmyra hostage. Even though he had repented, freeing their friends, and helped Avalanche unwaveringly for the rest of their adventures, some members of the party still harboured residual reservations about his veracity, citing the oft – mentioned dictum that "a spy was always a spy".

Cait curled his mouth downward at Barret in an expression of fake injury, before turning around and jumping into the flower lady's hands. Aeris wrapped her arms around the animated plushie, and the cat purred softly. The Ancient had been the only person to treat him kindly after his betrayal. He (and his controller) had moped around for a long time after her death, and without her, it had been a long time before the rest of Avalanche finally decided to break the arrow and accept the Shinra spy back into the fold. 

"Hello, Aeris… where have you been? They've been bullying me ever since you left!" Despite the fact that he was an automaton, his synthesised voice sounded exactly like a human being's, and in his case, it was nasal, whining and slightly pouting. He was speaking like a little kid who had been chased out of the sandbox by the bigger boys living in his block. 

The white mage sighed, rolling her large eyes. "Don't be so mean to him, Barret… you know that Cait didn't have a choice. He helped us right to the end, and that's what really matters."

"Yeah… he's just a dang robot, takin' orders from a yellow ratter who can't fight for nuts," the dark man grumbled below his breath, but he looked at his feet. Despite his misgivings about the reformed Shinra spy, he wasn't about to contradict the girl whom he owed so much to. This moment was far too precious, and this just wasn't the time to be the bull in the china shop and ruin everything.

The room, for some reason, felt a lot colder than before, and the incessant whirring of the air – con was much louder now. Aeris shivered slightly, bringing the covers closer to herself. There was a _whoosh _as the air above them rushed away suddenly, displaced by something new and unexpected that fell from above, making a perfect entrance, landing on two light feet. Cait hissed, leaping out of the flower seller's arms, landing perfectly on the moogle's broad shoulders. Thanks to the miracles of automation, now he was no longer holding the little hand bell that he carried around to entertain people, but a large megaphone, which he used in combat to stun and clobber the enemy with. Barret pointed his gun – arm at the ceiling, but he would have been too late to open fire on the new arrival, who was already standing below the opened ventilation shaft, a smug expression on her face. 

"YUFFIE! You scared the living &*#@% out of us!" Cid blustered. 

The ninja impudently spun around to face each of them in turn, jumping and punching the air in front of them in her trademark victory pose. At last she focused her attention on Aeris. She had been told that her former companion had survived somehow, but still seeing a person who had died in front of her in the flesh again certainly startled her no end. A round of imprecations shot out of the unshaven pilot and the former leader of Avalanche as drops of perspiration flew in all directions like the deadly hand weapons she liked to throw. 

"Oh my Gawd, Aeris, it is you!" Yuffie exclaimed, her mouth resolving itself into the shape of a big "O". 

The girl with chestnut hair chuckled, obviously humoured by her friend's expression of shocked surprise. "Tee hee… oh yes, Yuffie, it's really me all right." 

"But you don't have to call her a goddess, though," the red – furred feline added quickly, his wisecrack quickly met with approving smiles from the rest of the party.

"Err… I'm sorry for being late, I was… erm… working! And they didn't let me in! But they weren't a match for me! Yeah!" The materia huntress jumped, swinging from side to side, nearly catching Cloud in the midriff with the hardened leather shield attached to her left arm. 

"You've found a job… that's great! I'm so proud of you!" But Aeris didn't really mean what she said, for all of them had learned long ago that almost everything Yuffie said had to be taken with many pinches of salt. The warrior girl was probably up to something far from honest again. Her suspicions were confirmed when a big, innocent grin erupted on the Wutaian princess' face.

Cloud wasn't listening to his former girlfriend now. His sight had strayed to the bedside table, on which all her personal effects had been placed in an orderly fashion by the hospital staff. The cupid's bow was there, as well as the smaller ribbon she used to tie the ends of her braid. A pink handkerchief lay on the table too, held down by her armlets. Next to it, neatly coiled up, was the black cord necklace that she always wore in remembrance of Zack. Her purse lay open, and as he noticed, not without a small tinge of regret, a photograph of himself, still crisp and new, lying among the contents… 

But something seemed to be missing. Instinctively, he turned back to the young ninja, scrutinising her more closely than ever. One of Yuffie's hands was now thrust deep into her pockets, and if she wasn't reaching for one of her hidden shuriken…

Cloud looked at the table again, examining the flower girl's ribbon, as well as her armlets. He quickly put two and two together.

"Yuffie, give it back to her," he commanded.

"Give what back? I never took anything," she protested, the disingenuous look still on her face.

"The White Materia. Don't deny it, we know you well enough."

"Her _what?_ I wouldn't dream of it," she protested, her cheerful face never betraying her guilt, yet to those unlucky enough to be familiar with her mannerisms, this was the ultimate expression of culpability.

Aeris shook her head with resignation, yet her smile stayed. Yuffie was not just skilled in the fine arts of ninjutsu and subterfuge, she was also an accomplished thief. She had always coveted one thing above all others, and she wouldn't hesitate to grab it from her neighbours if the opportunity presented itself… 

Cloud sighed. As much as he wanted to step forward and shake the scrawny urchin until she gave up her glittering prize, he really didn't want to expend the effort to do so, not after what he'd gone through with Yuffie earlier on. On the way to the Temple of the Ancients, she had absconded with all their materia, forcing the remaining eight members of Avalanche to abandon their quest and embark on a wild goose chase to the capital of Wutai. Eventually, they found her hiding… in a jar of rice wine left outside the Turtle's Paradise bar to ferment (after the Meteor crisis passed, it was rumoured that when the brew in that particular jar was sampled, it tasted totally unlike any vintage the patrons had ever known, and from then on, a new idiomatic expression emerged – "tapping the Lady of Wutai"). Even though she was lured out of the large vat eventually, she still gave everyone the slip, and it had taken the expertise of another criminal to nab her. There had to be another way. 

"Return it to her… please."

"At least you asked nicely this time," Yuffie sighed and reluctantly tossed the shimmering crystal sphere back to its owner. She raised her hands to catch it, but it bounced off her fingers, landing softly on the covers.

"You low – down, no – good daughter of a bitch!"

"Yeah, why don't you go after her, and let me off for once?" Cait punctuated his suggestion with the tinkling of his bell. Cloud had decided to leave Yuffie to Don Corneo's tender mercies, but Aeris had begged him many times to reconsider. The mercenary had finally relented, if only because the flower lady was close to tears. Besides, they wouldn't be able to recover their materia if the Wutaian princess became a permanent resident of the philanderer's private harem.

"Aw, come on! All of us fought so hard just to find out more about it! We had to travel in that horrible sub, nearly getting eaten alive by Emerald Weapon! After that we had to kill an overgrown fugu fish and that six – winged dork just to get it to work! And I couldn't even search for it later because that stupid carp was in the way! Can't I even have a look at it?"

That drew a little laugh from Aeris and she pulled away the covers, moving forward on her knees, opening the young kleptomaniac's hand, pressing her hair ornament firmly into it.

"Well, if it makes you happy, you can have this. I hope you like it!" 

Yuffie was about to speak, but a terrible pain suddenly shot through her left foot, as if an anvil had fallen onto it. If that was not enough, she felt a set of fangs eating into her shin, and a cold heavy circle of metal the size of a dinner plate pressing hard into the base of her spine. She knew instantly that this was one materia they wouldn't allow her to have.

"Err… never mind… Forget I ever asked! Ow! Ow! Ow!!!" She gingerly stepped forward and placed the White Materia back onto the bedside table.

"What's wrong?" The Ancient was quick to ask, seeing the princess' face suddenly pale and stretched. Tifa merely smiled, gently pushing Aeris back onto her pillow, drawing the sheets back over her. "Relax… that's nothing."

"It's just that time of the month for her again, you know…" Cait supplied, sticking out his tongue at Yuffie. The ninja felt tempted to skin the cat with the throwing knives she carried, but it was useless, simply because the man who had cracked the joke was elsewhere in town, far from her reach. 

"Cait!" The martial artist glared at him.

"Your attempts at subtlety fail to impress at best," Red snickered at the robot's ribald humour. 

Cloud's gaze had not strayed from the little thief. "You're not finished yet… what about the rest of her materia?" She groaned, and reached into her pockets again, removing her multicoloured booty, putting them into his waiting palm. The SOLDIER promptly took the flower girl's wristguards, fitting them one by one into the linked slots before leaving the armlets in their original place. 

"Okay, okay… are you done with me now?" She bent down, rubbing her bruised legs, muttering phrases that were somewhat unbecoming of the future Lady of Wutai, even as everyone, Aeris included, broke out into uncontrolled laughter. It was always nice to enjoy some good, clean fun at Yuffie's expense. 

Cait was still holding onto his loudhailer / weapon, and now his voice drowned out everyone else's even as he blew his horn in the most stentorian tone possible. 

"As you can see, everybody, there was at least one person here who actually thought I was a nice guy. Now, let me reward your trust in me... by telling you a fortune!" 

The girl from Icicle Inn giggled again, clapping her hands. "Of course! I'd love to hear it Cait, please do!"

"All right! Here we go!" Cait hooted. He took off his gilt crown and bowed before her, slapping the moogle's head with his megaphone to start the process. The cat's bell jingled without pause as he waved it in a circle over his head. The Mog shuffled its two large feet and waved its arms back and forth. Several buzzing and whirring noises were heard from deep within the stuffed toy. Finally the moogle smiled, and a small slip of paper issued from its mouth. He picked it up, and read the prediction that his fortune – telling machine had made.

"Playing the bikini babe will win you many marks for affection."

"The hell?" Cid questioned.

"You friggin' pervert!"

"What _are _you trying to say, Cait?" Tifa frowned, her hands moving to her hips. 

The cat scratched his head, looking at the paper, quickly hiding it in a compartment that had conveniently opened up on the Moogle. "Whoops, wrong prediction," he remarked somewhat sheepishly, "You see, this was meant for that young and sweet dancing girl in the pub I met on Friday night…"

"So, now we know that Mister Reeve isn't as innocent as he professes himself to be."

"Gosh! That gal is like, so sad! Falling for an old man with a long beard!"

"Wow… you've got a girlfriend! Don't be shy about it, Cait, tell us more!"

Cait could not blush, so he and the moogle did the next best thing; they placed their hands over their eyes in perfect synchronisation, as they were always wont to do when they were embarrassed. 

"All right, all right, I get it! Let me try again!" Fortunately he was using the megaphone, for the room was once more filled with laughter and mirth.

He and the moogle performed his routine again, and once more a fortune slip issued forth. Cait tore it off, and read it carefully this time to certify that it didn't reveal more about his master's personal life than he had already let slip.

"A wish made upon starlight will see you home."

"Arrgh! My… my head hurts!" Barret rubbed his temples after a minute, unable to decipher the message (it had taken him a full month to even begin to comprehend the "Catastrophe" limit break one of the boys in North Corel had tried to teach him).

"Hey, that was his fault. I was saving this for the kids one floor down. Didn't I tell you not to come out with this?" Cait replied after a second of hasty contemplation, standing up and slapping his HP Shout megaphone on the moogle's head, his companion nodding repeatedly in mechanical contrition.

"Look, Aeris, I'm really sorry about those… technical difficulties! I'll have a real prediction for you, I mean right now!"

Aeris could only keep on smiling, trying hard not to laugh at the robot's unfortunate missteps. "It's all right Cait, you're doing just fine."

This place, like the whole town, just seemed so dreary, as if the atmosphere itself was seeping in from the outside. Even if the brightest colours were chosen, even if the food was as good as her mom's, even if all the furniture was more comfortable than what she could expect at home, this was still a hospital. No matter how hospitable the Sanatorium was, the fact remained that this was a place for the sick, the injured, the dying and the dead. No one in his or her right mind would willingly come here. Especially the children. They would not be used to such unfamiliar surroundings. They were not prepared to face the rigours of the world so early in life, and they would feel the pain and the loneliness more acutely than anyone else, simply because they had nothing else to think about or look forward to. It was good that he was trying to entertain them, trying to take them away from all the unhappiness that came with an injury or an illness. No one, especially the kids, deserved to suffer like this. But then… as an adult, there were more complex emotions to comprehend, deeper troubles to seek diversion from…

Cait and the fortune – telling machine waddled and waved in unison one last time, and he read aloud with a hint of satisfaction and relief what he believed was his best and most accurate prediction of the three.

"You have nothing else to lose, but you have everything else to gain." 

She nodded, and this time she held her peace. Did she still have anything else to lose? Did she truly have anything at all to gain? She had once trusted in the stars that had promised her a bright future, those very same stars that had said that she and Cloud were the perfect couple… Had it been right to fight for them? Were they as great and good and gracious as everyone always said? Or were they like everyone else, capricious and inconstant, always making a puff without a true promise? Could she place her faith in them again? The stars… would they leave her like that again? On that night before the very end… the stars were bright… but they had not been shining for her. 

"C'mon… don't tell me I said something wrong this time!" Cait found himself beleaguered as he was stared down by Avalanche yet again. 

"… Oh no, it's not that! Don't blame him! I was just daydreaming, that's all…" the young Cetra was quick to reply, but she spoke more softly and she didn't take her eyes off the bedspread. But why had they decided to bring her back here now? Did they want her to give them a second chance?

The door was flung open another time, but with far less strength and speed than before. Everyone turned to see Elmyra bursting into the room, Marlene clinging tightly onto her pale and freely swinging hand. She had been literally dragged along, unable to keep with her aunt's frantic pace. The old lady, upon seeing her daughter, began to moan, staggering towards the bed. When she was but half a foot away from the bed, her feet left the ground, and she thrust herself onto the covers, grabbing the girl fiercely, beginning to sob loudly.

Aeris took her mother's arms gently and firmly, raising her up slowly, and clearing a space for her to sit, guiding her onto the bed. She patted her mother's back, whispering words of consolation into her ear. 

"Mom, I'm safe now… don't worry about me..." 

"Aeris, please don't keep scaring me like this! Why can't you just be a good little girl again and stay out of trouble for once? When will you ever learn?" 

Elmyra's tears just kept flowing on and on. The flower girl could do naught but hold her mother more tightly. She bit her lip, seeing the state she had caused her guardian to be in. Her eyes were ringed with circles, dark as bruises. They featured more prominently now, as they were ringed by a collection of wrinkles that made them seem far smaller and recessed than they already were. Her forehead was now an expanse of deep cracks and grooves and her cheeks were sagging noticeably, the lips dry, pale and peeling in so many places. In short, she now appeared like a piece of crumpled paper. Her dark grey hair, once drawn together into a severe bun, was now stained with snowy white streaks, several strands falling here and there, thin and wispy as smoke. The past few days had not been kind to Elmyra. 

"Mom… I had to help him… but…" 

"I'm so afraid, Aeris… I thought everything was all right once you came back, but look what happened! I have no idea how I spent those last few days… I feared for the worst. Things were never the same after you died, and I couldn't bring myself to accept another day without my daughter!

"Look, Aeris… you're an adult now, I know you can make your own choices… but whatever you do, don't die on me another time! I'm not getting any younger… I won't know what I'll do if you abandon me again! Please!"

"I understand, mom. I'll make sure you'll be fine." 

Elmyra sniffled, saying no more, closing her eyes. Her daughter would probably disobey her and run off again, but for now she was content with seeing, hearing and feeling her girl again. Soon she regained enough of her composure, letting go of the Ancient, getting up slowly. She saw Marlene, waiting patiently at the sidelines, and brought her forward. It was her turn to leap into the bed, landing squarely into her friend's arms, laughing all the while. 

"The flower lady's back! What took yoo so long?"

Marlene was so happy to see her. There was nothing else on the little girl's face but a large, welcoming grin and her bright and glittering eyes. When she was happy, she seemed so innocent, so unfettered, so blissfully ignorant of the problems life had in store for her. She had almost forgotten what it was like to have been a child. There had been another side to the coin. The young Cetra had not enjoyed many cheerful moments when she wore a younger person's clothes, but then… each one had been a real experience, and the joy she had felt was so complete, so unadulterated and so absolute. Those moments had meant so much to her… and seeing Marlene's smile, she was taken out of her world for a little while, and she felt glad that she was able to allow Barret's daughter to savour the magic of being young, while she still had a chance to. 

"Marlene, it's been such a long time… have you been good when I was gone? Have you been nice to your dear Aunt?"

"Sure think! Auntie likes me a lot! She sez I'm a good little gal! Teech me to be cute and smart like yoo!"

"Oh yes, my dear, I will…"

"Heh heh… she's been askin' day in and day out about when you'd be comin' back! It's as if she's your biggest fan or somethin'! You better lend me a hand with my little Marlene! Those kiddies are drivin' me nuts!"

"Play with me, Aerith! Show me the flowers! Take me with yoo!" The little girl's grin broadened, revealing her gums, which, like most girls her age had a few black holes here and there. 

"Don't you see, Aeris? She needs you too…" Elmyra added.

An apparition in white had appeared in the doorway. "I'm very sorry to say this, but we can only allow visitors to the ICU to stay for twenty minutes a day. Miss Gainsborough has not recovered fully, and she requires rest. Please, come again tomorrow morning." The nurse disappeared, the door closing before Cid could paint her with another choice vulgarity. 

This was the opportunity Yuffie had been waiting for, and now she began to excuse herself. "Oh well, it was nice to see you Aeris, now I've gotta make a move! Ta – ta!" Barret stumbled forward, knocked off balance by a sudden load upon his shoulders, and the bed rocked as he grabbed it for support. 

"That @$)!$&! I'm no freakin' stepping stone!" He shook his gun – arm another time at the ceiling, but the vent cover had long been closed and of her there was no sign already. His cursing became more voluble and more audible as he found that he now had a score to settle with the ninja. All the materia in his weapon and armlets were missing. 

Cid had become more and more jittery as the time went by, pacing from one end of the room to the other, muttering unintelligibly to himself. His hands were trembling, and they opened and clenched involuntarily. He kept adjusting his headband, and even though the room was cold, colder sweat began to course down his brow. At last he could stand it no longer, and he reached for the door handle.

"Hey… I need a smoke, and I need it now! You'll forgive me, won't you?" The pilot could not wait for an answer, though, and he bolted out of the ICU, unable to control his urge any more, an entire lexicon of imprecations springing free, but sadly, not before he was out of earshot. 

"Hrmph! No one likes me, it seems! They're chasing me out again… Never mind, they can't keep out someone like me forever! I'll tease the little ladies and gentlemen down under, and I'll be back… so don't cry!" Cait waddled out of the room, pausing for his moogle to squeeze through the doorway, turning back and blowing her several kisses. With a final ring of his bell, he began to recite on his megaphone a loud jingle that immediately drew a barrage of pillows, water glasses and intravenous infusion packets from the adjoining rooms. 

"There, Marlene, your pal here's a – okay! Why don'tcha give her a break, huh? She'll be back with us real soon!" Barret bent down, letting his child climb onto his shoulders, the girl grinning all the while at her friend. The dark man took a few paces forward, and when he saw that Elmyra did not budge, he placed a large firm hand on her arm, and the same rough smile came up on his face. 

"C'mon, nothing ain't gonna happen to her this time! Let's have a smiley face like dat girl here!" This was the best he could do for her… he was a man of action and not terribly good with words. Dialogue and persuasion had fallen into disuse in this world, and the song of a sword or the report of a gun was far more eloquent and convincing than the writings and speeches of the poets and scholars who had died out with the Ancients. 

"I quite agree. Your daughter is now safe and you should not worry about her situation. Perhaps you should look forward to her recovery instead," Nanaki came to his aid, completing Barret's message. 

Elmyra shook her head, staring at the floor at length, but she finally managed to look up at her daughter, gazing at the Cetra as if she was looking at her for the last time.

"Please, do come home soon… we'll be waiting for you…" Elmyra squeezed her eyes shut and turned away slowly. Barret escorted her out of the room, his good arm locked with hers, supporting her every faltering step. 

Vincent pulled down his scarf, stepping before the leader of Avalanche. 

"I will return to Nibelheim. Several people have gone missing in the mountains over the past few days, and early this morning there was a report of a monster sighted in the foothills."

"The reactor?" The SOLDIER asked immediately, feeling his spiky hair beginning to stand up without the aid of his hair gel. 

"No one has restarted it ever since the town was burned down, but I will investigate the facility. Do not be alarmed… it might just be another faulty valve like the last time."

Cloud shrugged. That had done little to assuage his uneasiness, as a mercenary learned early in his career that no mission was ever as simple as it had seemed. He had gone to fix a leaky pipe, only to find himself eventually caught in a fight to save the Planet. In his line of work, an operation going exactly as planned was itself an unexpected occurrence, and a cause for concern. 

"Well… be careful, and give us a call if you find anything unusual. Take Hilda Garde with you."

"Certainly… and take care of the girl." He turned to the wounded Aeris, and now she saw all the years falling off the ever morose and inconsolable ex - Turk's face as he smiled at her. His eyes were bloodshot no more, but burning bright, red like a rising sun. They were calm and focused, no longer looking inwards, but quiet, expectant, and self – assured. He was sending a message to her. He bowed, and with a flourish, he swept out of the ward, stepping outside to carry out his new mission.

It was then that Tifa whispered a word to Cloud, and the blond man nodded. Giving his former girlfriend a final glance, he shut his eyes tightly and turned around, motioning to Red. He left quickly, almost running out of the room, the lion - creature following behind quietly, leaving the flower seller alone with the barmaid. Aeris looked at the brunette, wondering what was going to happen now. She was hoping that Cloud would have left taking his wife with him. What did Tifa wish to say to her? She didn't want to face her one – time rival again… what could a victor possibly say to the vanquished? But she had behaved nothing like a knight who was left with the right to gloat over his defeated enemy. Tifa was behaving as if nothing had happened at all… and that made her pause to listen to the martial artist. 

Tifa sat down on the bed, in the space that Elmyra had vacated earlier. For a moment she was silent, but then her chest tightened as she put her thoughts together, finally deciding on what to say to her companion.

"Aeris… thank you… for giving us your blessing…"

The Ancient raised a brow. It was not the common practice for the winner to thank the loser. The girl from Nibelheim was not just being polite, but she was actually being nice to her! She didn't have to treat her rival like this, now that she was safely married and the love triangle had been resolved in her favour. Tifa' behaviour had caught her totally off guard. Aeris could still remember the look on the barmaid's face when Cait had proudly proclaimed that she and Cloud were destined to be together. Tifa had stiffened, and her face was locked in a hard, pale, grim mask that she had never seen before from the strong and silent woman. The fortune – teller had gone on, offering to officiate at their prospective wedding, so convinced of the accuracy of his prediction, and then Tifa had sniffed and turned away, almost stalking out of the temple, but not before she had fixed the flower girl with a bitter, withering glare, one that she reserved only for her enemies, and Tifa bore a grudge against very few people indeed. Even though Aeris was inwardly jubilant, believing that the fates had confirmed what she had believed all along, her celebration was dampened by the realisation that Tifa no longer considered her as a friend.

"I must admit, Aeris… I was very sad when Cloud fell for you. When we were still children, I was attracted to him. He was so different from the rest of the boys. While everyone crowded around me, he would always be nearby, hiding in a corner, looking at me from a distance. I was getting tired of all the attention the boys gave me. They were all the same, and I wasn't really happy with them. I thought of taking a chance on him. Perhaps he had something more to offer, something that was fresh and new. But he came from a poor family, and my dad looked down on him, especially since he thought Cloud was to blame for causing my fall into the gorge. He would punish me if he knew I fancied him. He wanted to know me, but I stayed away from him.

"I started learning the martial arts, hoping to keep him out of my mind by practicing my moves every day. But I just couldn't do it. He came by every day to watch me train, and I couldn't concentrate. He was too handsome, and too… mysterious for me to forget him. After a long time, I finally decided to go for him. But before I could get started, he left to join SOLDIER, and I knew I'd hesitated too long. 

"I was overjoyed when he joined me in Midgar, but he met you only a few days later… even though he came to rescue me, he was looking at you all the time in the Don's room, the very same way he'd gazed at me once… and I knew that I'd gotten only one chance… and I'd blown it long ago.

"He couldn't get over your death, and I thought he would never love anyone else again. But when we fell into the Lifestream, I found that he still had feelings for me… he had hidden them deep inside, thinking I'd rejected him, and he was able to express them only in his darkest hour, when he had lost everything. After we escaped, we got back together for a while…"

"But he still thought very often of you, and after we defeated Sephiroth, he told me that he wanted to search for you. But after traveling the Planet for a long time, visiting so many places, we still couldn't find a way to bring you back, and the more we were together, the more we were drawn to each other, even though both of us tried not to show it. We finally gave up all hope of finding you, and I suggested going to the Gold Saucer to take our minds off everything. And there, he told me that your death had made him realise what was truly needed to love another person… that he'd missed his chance with you, and he asked me to be his girlfriend… and not long after… we married.

"Aeris… you've taken the bad news so nicely… after you came back, I was afraid you'd be mad with me, that you'd take him away from me. I'm… sorry if I've made you feel sad. But… I love him, and I want to thank you for giving me a second chance, even though I didn't deserve it." 

At least Tifa was happy now… what would have happened if she had gotten Cloud instead? Then the gentle barmaid would have been the one suffering now. She had nearly made Lucrecia heartbroken by refusing to help Sephiroth, and only now did she realise that she would have ruined Tifa's life if she'd gotten together with the golden – haired man. It would have been selfish of her to run off with Cloud, leaving her friend to pine away, to shed secret tears over losing him. Just as she had decided to let the sad scientist rest easy and take up the burden of looking out for the fallen hero, she would rather prefer to let Tifa have the guy and remain the aggrieved one herself. If she could not enjoy a happy – ever – after ending herself, at least she would be the author of someone else's. 

She smiled, gripping the brunette's rough gloved hand. "Don't thank me, Tifa… I should be the one to apologise. I broke the two of you up. Don't bother about it any longer… can we be friends again?" Her other hand came up lightly clenched, save for her little finger, slightly bent, waiting to her one – time rival to respond. 

"You know, I was just about to ask that question. I thought you'd say no… but now I can say that I'm really lucky to have you as a friend." Her pinky came forward, and they completed the ancient gesture of friendship. Cloud had compared the young Cetra to a goddess, and she would agree with him. Who else would ever forgive a person who had killed her, let alone forgive someone who had taken away her lover? Tifa could only hope that Aeris would meet a man worthy enough for her… and that no one would come in between them, or she'd move herself back to square one again, as she would always be the one protecting her neighbours from pain and sadness, only to take them upon herself. 

"Now Tifa, don't let me hold you back this time! Let me see one nice happy family now!" She giggled again, thinking of all the fun in store for the lucky couple with several cute little Clouds and Tifas running around. 

"All right, I get the hint, I'll get going now! Be strong, Aeris… and don't let this keep you down. Don't think any less of yourself because of what's happened between us! No matter what happens… you're really special to us all… and you're still my friend!" The martial artist was grinning from ear to ear already, her sombre mood broken at last. She got up slowly, pausing in the doorway to wave to the Ancient girl before closing the door after her. 

Aeris lay back into her pillow, staring at the ceiling, wondering what to make of everything. She had tried to go through the motions of enjoying their company at first, but soon she found that she needn't have bothered doing so. She too was really feeling much better now, even though her friends and family had been with her for such a short while. 

It seemed that she was not alone in this horrible world after all. However, she was inextricably linked to it as well. Everyone else had been affected by her actions. She'd thought that by going to the City of the Ancients alone, she would be able to defeat Sephiroth on her own, and she wouldn't need to bother her friends or endanger their lives on a quest that was becoming more and more deadly with every step. But what had happened? The rest of Avalanche had been severely demoralised because of everything that had happened, and they had almost died several times… just to find out that the Planet had heard her prayer. Cloud had nearly succumbed to self – destruction… and would have if Tifa hadn't saved him. Elmyra had suffered on alone, unable to recover from her death. Marlene had been left wondering where she'd gone, vainly hoping every day that she'd return. Now that she thought of it, she had been so willful and foolish to have acted by herself… it was extremely fortunate that everything turned had out all right in the end. It seemed that even her wishes were not hers to command. No matter what she did, she would always have to consider the impact her choices would make on her friends. 

But no matter what she had done to them, they were all (even Tifa!) trying so very hard to show their affection and concern for her, to the extent of making her laugh. Most of all, though, they actually seemed much happier to see her alive and well. She had never seen them so lively and so light – hearted when she had been observing them in the Lifestream. Her mother had almost swooned when she came back, and the old lady had almost died worrying about her injuries. And Marlene was already treating her like an elder sister. She'd never had a childhood to speak of, and Barret's little girl now wanted her to experience it anew. So everyone wanted her to brighten up their lives… and they wanted to make hers more worthwhile as well. 

She closed her eyes, smiling once more, snuggling under the sheets, feeling much warmer and comfortable now. Things didn't seem so painful now. Life did not seem so sad now. Yes, she had lost much in coming back here, but it seemed so worth it now that the others were counting on her even as she relied on them. 

She too had been given a second chance.

__

A/N: Everyone has mailed in talking about how I described Sephy and Aerith in the last chapter. I forgot to write it down in the author's notes earlier (I hadn't updated for two weeks, and I figured the suspense was too great for anyone to bear), but I'd say there was no magic in what I wrote. I just studied Tetsuya Nomura's concept art for Aeris, and described all the details (those eyes are gigantic!). For Sephy, I used a cheat program to put him in the party (too lazy to play the Nibelheim mission again), then I took a screenshot of his portrait. He looked great - he was dark and brooding and he looked so angsty… and more importantly, he looked like a good guy. This was what Aeris saw when he visited her after midnight=). I was also inspired by the burial scene at the end of Disc 1. The funeral sequence never fails to make me feel sad (But to think of it, the lake appears very shallow indeed). How did she look so calm and composed even though we see her eyes wide open in pain when Sephy - poo kills her? I think Aeris looks much better with her hair let down. 

I have no idea what's the name of Elymra's husband, so I just cooked up a quick name to fit it in. 

***

I don't know very much about what will happen to a person with one lung, but I'd assume that with the reduced vital capacity (the amount of air you can take in with one breath), you'd tire out a lot more quickly. Don't you feel sad for her? 

This chapter may not have very much to do with the progression of the plot, (it's going along very slowly I admit), except for a very short account by Tifa about what she and Cloud did after defeating Sephiroth, and what they were doing at the Gold Saucer. Take it as a welcome break from all the heavy and angsty stuff laid down so far. This is my attempt to place an element of humour in a serious fic. Unfortunately, most of my jokes are of the crude, bawdy and slapstick sort, so I think I shall just stick to what I do best. 

The "Oh my Gawd" joke was based on a true story. I was in class one day, and one guy was telling a girl something (that I couldn't remember). She shouted "Oh my God!" in response even as the door opened to reveal my History teacher. He heard the gal, and he said, "You don't have to call me God you know." That joke rocked, and now I have reproduced it here for your enjoyment. 

I borrowed the English idiom "Tapping the Admiral" and applied it here. According to popular belief, when Admiral Nelson died at the battle of Trafalgar, his officers did not want to bury him at sea, so they placed him in a cask of wine to preserve his body and brought him back to England. It is said that some seamen opened the cask, placing straws into it and drinking the wine ("tapping"), which was henceforth known as the "Admiral's vintage". The term was later used to describe sailors filching wine from shipboard stores by inserting straws into the barrel and drinking from it. I was wondering what the heck a large jar was doing outside the Turtle's Paradise bar and decided that it would do well in this little humour segment. Imagine drinking from a jar of Yuffie - flavoured wine! No wonder she got captured by Don Corneo, she got so drunk hiding in the vat! Now… pardon me, for this is really gross, but if I were Cloud, I would have been severely tempted to preserve Aeris in a similar manner (Then I would get Reno trying to break the barrel open).

When I was at pre - university level (what you'd call senior high school), I was, erm, forced to study George Eliot, in particular, The Mill on the Floss_. The book weighed in at 600+ pages, and it took me forever to read it from cover to cover. It was very long, and very verbose, and in one section, Eliot talked about why a child would feel sadness more strongly than an adult. A grown - up has gone through many terrible episodes in his life, and presumably would be able to tell himself, when encountering another "blip" in his life, that "this will be over eventually, I've been there, done that". He has the experience and maturity to get past such trials, but the child, being alive for only so long, does not have past experience to draw hope from. All the kid knows is that he is suffering now, and he cannot believe that his troubles will pass, simply because he has not gone through a similar situation before. That is why Aeris believes it is very important that the children in the hospital are cheered up, since they won't know that they'll get over their illness or injury eventually._

Marlene here speaks a little like Ellone from FFVIII (you know, the infamous "yoo" word), and as many of her milk teeth have fallen off, she has a little problem pronouncing her friend's name. In fact, some would say that Aerith is_ the flower girl's proper name._

Now everybody… aren't you glad the wait is over?

__

To the Constructicons:

Barney: I'll show you how deep my love is.

Michael: Optimus Prime! Save me!

Optimus: You've gone too far this time, Megatr-- oh, erm… sorry, wrong villain. I'm afraid, Michael, that I do not owe you a duty of care to protect you from… Barney. I've got an urgent Energon dinner with Spike and Carlie. Roll out! (disappears)

Michael: Aerith! Help!

(Aerith appears. PWAKH! The numbers "65535" appear over Barney's head as the Princess Guard cracks the poor purple dinosaur open. You see, she's had all eternity in the Promised Land to level up. Barney fades away slowly as the ground shakes a bit.)

Michael: Thanks, Aerith. 

Aerith: The deal is for one fic, right?

(All Exeunt)

__

To Starfall4790:

Final Fantasy IV? Only played it a bit before giving up… got lost while flying the Hiryu Dragon. It can fly, but it can't go over mountain peaks. I hope I didn't portray poor Cloud as a weakling… he's obviously made of sterner stuff. But a Sephy/Cloud fight for the right to take her to hospital would definitely sit well in a humour fic.

__

To Homunculus:

Not bad, your art. Aeris looks kinda mischievous here. If you really feel like it, feel free to draw something based on my fic. I'd be honoured, of course. I dunno, does ff.net allow you to upload pictures? My art basically sucks. Whenever I try to draw Aerith, she looks like Michael Jackson=)

To be a sworn - reader… will you have the patience to wait for each chapter to come out? 

Mmmm… will a sexy Aerith turn FFVII Cloud on enough to break him out of his angsty mood? I guess so, since the FFVII Aeris is a more bulky bunch of polygons compared to her. But I for one can't get used to seeing her in spaghetti straps… I think she looks better in a sleeveless dress instead, but hey, look at Yuffie, she didn't do too bad either!

__

To Chibi Taryn Demon:

Appearances matter… they matter a lot. But is there something deeper perhaps? That was why Squaresoft put in a lot of effort to show that Aerith was a lot more than the dress and the voice… she valued Cloud not just because his hairstyle resembled Zack's… she wanted to know him as Cloud the man… not just because he behaved a bit like Zack. 

I have more to say about Sephiroth's six - foot blade (did the Japanese ever make such a long sword?), but I have to find an appropriate situation to say more about it. 

__

To Crow T R0bot:

Hmmm… I'm really sad to disappoint you, but I don't think I'll be able to write a Silent Hill fic. (I've never heard of it, I'm afraid, so I know practically nothing about it. 

Also, I'm committed to giving my best in this fic at the time, and that, of course, will require all of my resources. Yeah yeah, I'm starting to sound like a politician, but that's the truth. I have other ideas too, for other fics… but all of them are doing nothing but rotting in my mind, since this story takes top priority. 

Yeah… my sis read that chapter, and she said that I really outdid myself, that I should leave some things to the reader's imagination… but I didn't tell her that my description served a purpose besides mere exposition… 

Vincent has suffered enough for his sins, and now, Sephiroth has just begun to feel the heat. He is, however, astute enough to recognise that Vincent has redeemed himself, but will he be able to take the quantum leap and believe in himself too?

Once again, I'm sorry… but that was quite an interesting idea, though.

__

To Starling94:

Don't be sad, there are many people whose access to the com is severely restricted (I should be one of them, since I spend way too much time writing and surfing the net rather than studying my texts). But this is an opportunity to learn to maximise your time spent… may lead to more efficient writing and mailing. Looking forward to the first sight of the girl with chestnut hair!

Not bad… you got the hint! I was wondering how many people would catch on to it. The words "recon" and "intel" are just convenient labels Sephiroth uses to justify his actions. 

__

To Phantom Kensai:

Oh well, everyone needs a source of inspiration. Was Tales Of Phantasia very popular in its time? Which goes to show that if the writer is skilled enough, he or she will be able to make even a common and cliched idea worth reading (or in this case, playing through). Interesting parallels, though… that cannon and the healer girl… the heroes always fall for the healers for some reason… maybe because they're sweeter and gentler than the rest.

About angsty characters… for Sephy, everyone so far seems to portray him as a deep and brooding guy… this is merely my take on his character. For an angsty Aeris… I got that idea from Snow Fields… you actually feel a bit sad for her, and it's a welcome change from the giggly and airheaded girl portrayed in the game. While writing about Aerith, I was wondering whether it was possible to reconcile the lively and vibrant young girl that drags Cloud along to a date with the darker, tearful young woman in Zahra's fic… and this goes back to the question of appearances… and motives…

__

To NuregOfTheElves:

Tetsuya Nomura wasn't just a great artist, but a gifted storyteller too, and this combination is damned rare - you're either one, or the other (Tolkien was both). But what was great was that he also manages to put his ideas forward in a very subtle fashion, and leaves the ending (of FFVII at least) for the reader to decide! He should try and write a real book. 

I hope you didn't wait long for this chapter… it'll take you a few days at least to go through all 95 of Zahra's chapters… how did she have so much stamina? It's almost an epic story already! (I skipped all the chapters that didn't relate to Aeris, but the confrontation in the Mako reactor was too good to resist.)

__

To Manga-Lunatic:

Congratulations! You're my 70th reviewer! Thanks for taking me out of the "69" position! I seem to be amassing a little collection of rave reviews! Don't think too highly about me, there are other people out there who can work better imagery than mine (and in far less words!). Glad you liked it, though!

__

To Relena55:

Thanks for the offer… I wish I had the time… school is killing me… and I must put in all my remaining effort in this little story… I cannot disappoint anyone! 

__

To Silvawolf:

You're in luck, you didn't have to wait so long for my story to get updated (everyone else has waited for almost 2 weeks)! I'm quite surprised that you discovered the story… I normally don't go beyond the first few search pages. Thanks for reading!


	14. Chapter 14: No Rest for the Wicked or th...

****

OF A PURE HEART, A FALLEN KNIGHT AND THE ONE – WINGED ANGELS

__

----------------------------------------- Disclaimer: ------------------------------------------

To the Reader and the Lawyers:

Final Fantasy VII, and all the characters, including Aeris and Sephiroth, Cloud, Tifa, Barret, Vincent, Yuffie, Red, Cid, Cait Sith (Reeve), Ifalna, Professor Gast, Lucrecia, Professor Hojo Frankenstein, Jenova the Mad, Rufus Schizoprenoid, Don Corneo the Horny, Reno, the Rude gentleman and Elena the Teller of Secrets (any anyone I may have inadvertently missed out, knowingly, willfully or otherwise) are property of Square Enix Co, formerly Squaresoft LLC. 

Tell me if my disclaimer ain't good enough. I will reward you with a few thousand Chibi - Vincents depressed to the nadir with Tranqulisers, and they shall cause a wet blanket to hang over your house and generally expose you to the… darker side of your nature (You know how angsty Vincent can be from the fanfics here, so I'm taking this concept one step further… a Chibi - Vincent would probably behave in the same fashion). 

****

To other Fanfic Writers (This is more important!) Plagiarism Note:

There are a lot of Aeriseph fanfics around here. I've tried my best to stay as original as possible, but it's a bit hard to write this type of story without treading on someone's toes by accident along the line. Please, if you feel that I may have 'borrowed' some of your concepts or ideas by mistake, notify me immediately. **Email** a "cease and desist" message to me, point out where I have gone wrong, and I will act immediately to remove or modify the offending section(s). 

Thank you very, very much for your understanding and tolerance. 

Yuffie: Hey, isn't that a Tonberry coming up over there? No? It's not? Erm, I could have sworn it was there just now! Oh well, maybe you'll see him again! Hey, I'll help you look for him! Don't worry, it's free! (Skips away, making merry jingling noises. You feel as if a heavy weight has been literally taken off you.)

__

NO REST FOR THE WICKED… OR THE GOOD

The man walked quickly through the chilling streets of Kalm, hands thrust deep into the pockets of his coat. He had been partying all night, and now he had to return quickly. Many critical decisions were waiting to be taken, and he could not flippantly leave them alone like he had done the last time. Things were different now; he'd be done for if he did not take decisive action. His girlfriend had probably been waiting for him for the whole night, and now she would probably give him the customary dressing down. But then, he was sure he'd find a persuasive enough excuse (even though she'd heard all of them, and then some more) to forestall most, if not all, of the temper tantrums she liked to throw. 

It was then that he noticed that he was not alone. It was only half past six, yet someone else was already up and about, and walking slowly towards him. The early morning light was bright enough to chase away the shadows around the lone figure, and he saw that it was a girl in a pink dress and a red jacket. 

That girl… he'd seen her before. Though how or why or what in heaven's name she was doing here he really didn't know. He'd heard that she had reappeared, but he simply couldn't believe what they'd told him. And now, he was seeing her with his own eyes. She was carrying a small wicker basket, and amazingly enough… it was full of flowers. 

The flowers… it had been quite a little while since he'd last seen a flower, let alone a bunch of them. He had been born and raised in Midgar, and he had been one of the few people to experience life above and below the Plate. Nothing could grow in the slums, as the metal framework had cut off all light to the shabby tenements below. Even in the Upper Plate, whose residents had received all the sunlight they could possibly desire, the seeds stayed dead in the pots, the conditions too harsh for them to germinate. Kalm was a good distance away from the great city, but it was still in close enough proximity to the former capital of the Planet to suffer the effects of Mako depletion. The lands around Midgar had been bled dry by the reactors, turning into a blackened, cracked and sterile wasteland. Even here, the earth was grey, rocky and barren, the soil drained and lifeless. Not a single plant could take root in this place either. But somehow, that girl had managed to persuade green life to sprout in the most unlikely of places.

"Excuse me, sir… would you like a flower?"

His attention was now drawn to the flowers in the basket. The petals were still firm and crisp, and he could see small droplets of dew clinging onto them. Now that she had come closer, he found the fragrance of those blossoms wafting towards him, and the smell was rich and concentrated, yet satisfying and refreshing. It was as if he was standing in a whole field full of them. He tried to tell himself that this was a pretty stupid question, knowing what she'd probably say, but he always relished any sort of interaction with a pretty chick. At any rate, he had to find out more about her.

"And how much are you willing to sell it for?"

"Oh… it's only one gil."

Only one gil. She had to be kidding! The girl was obviously too naïve for her own good. She could make a handsome profit by selling such treasures in this place. He had seen a dry and wilted stalk go for over a hundred gil in Midgar, and in the Upper Plate, the men would show their affection and dedication to their lovers by buying an entire bouquet for them. A flower would serve as the perfect tool to divert his girlfriend's attentions from his late return to the house. But as he looked at that lovely familiar face again… he knew that that many men (including himself, if he had any cash left over after having his beer and cigarettes) would have paid any amount she had demanded for just that one flower. So… it wasn't those flowers that were luring him after all… it was the person who was selling them. At any rate, it was her problem that she was silly enough to sell it at such a ridiculously low price. 

"Hmmm… why not?" He pulled out his hand, balancing a small gold coin between his thumb and forefinger. He let it roll back and forth along his palm before flicking it into the girl's basket.

"Thank you very much, sir! This will make you happy!" She selected a white camellia, placing it into his outstretched hand. The young florist smiled and slowly walked down the cobblestone street, looking for new customers, a little song coming to her lips. She did not notice that the man had not moved, but was now staring intently at her, observing her from tip to toe, pondering over the way she walked and talked, listening to the light timbre of her voice, feeling the rhythm of her footsteps. That was something the man would never have done had his girlfriend been with him, as she would get very… passionate whenever he did so much as look at a skirt in the street, knowing his penchant to get a bit… distracted every so often.

*****

Aeris was sitting down on a clean, shaded stretch of pavement, slumped against a wall, her head drooping slightly, her hands dangling loosely at her side. The Ancient's face was colourless and drained, several limp locks of hair falling here and there. Slowly she dabbed her glowing brow with her hanky, and the pink cloth came away heavy, thick and darkened. This was terrible. During her time in Midgar, she had been able to go on from dawn to dusk, travelling the length and breadth of a Sector to sell her flowers. She had only been out for around an hour, but now she felt as if she could not move another inch. 

She still couldn't get used to the problems pressing her life down, it seemed. She hadn't lasted ten minutes on her first day out, and she should have taken some comfort in the fact that she had made a little headway at least. Tifa had told her to be strong, but she could only do so much to overcome her own weak body. She could go so far with only one wing, let alone one that had been clipped, one that had the flight feathers torn from it. She would probably have to resign herself to becoming the sad and frail and sickly little damsel who always needed to be rescued by the guys.

Her eyes wearily opened, and she tried to focus her sight on the basket at her side. The little blossoms were still fresh and good and lovely. They hadn't wilted yet, even though she had effectively ended their lives by plucking them from the plants several hours earlier. Now it seemed as if they were trying to speak to her… as if they were giving her encouragement somehow… Fortunately for her, she would recover after resting for a little while, and she'd be able to ply her trade again.

The young Cetra raised herself up slowly, placing a hand on the wall to support herself as her sore legs began to complain bitterly, unwilling to end their hard - earned rest. The wall on which she had leaned back on was now glistening slightly, small drops of moisture slowly coursing down the rough surface brick by brick. She picked up her basket, grabbing it tightly with both hands when it threatened to slip out of her grasp, as it seemed as if her heart had been placed in there as well. Step by step she plodded on, looking out again in the empty early morning streets for someone she could sell her flowers to. 

Things seemed so different now from the days when she had walked the streets of Midgar. The air of the city was filled with the synthetic, metallic fragrance of exhaust fumes, the scent of fermenting garbage and the rank and cancerous odours from the Shinra sweatshops. It was forever nighttime in the slums, with the Plate separating the inhabitants from the sky. The streets were always full of strangers, people whom she'd never met before. You never knew what would happen next in the slums. The underside of Midgar, holding such a high concentration of humanity, was a melting pot boiling over with every type of person conceivable, and in such a place where the good, the bad and the ugly were put so close together, strange things were bound to happen every day. Hardly a day passed without a shooting, a Shinra raid or a fight between the local gangs. Many a loafer, a street tough and a bandit had tried to take advantage of her, and she had quickly learnt how to defend herself with a guard stick. 

But here, there was no nightlife, no neon signs, no flashy posters. It was clear and bright enough for her to see from one end of the little town to the other. The air was clean and light, and she could smell nothing save the fragrance of her flowers. The streets were empty today. The sun had little warmth or brightness to spare today, and even though it was only autumn, the chill was setting in early this year, slowing down life everywhere, making everyone seek out a warm and cozy place to tide over the coming cold season. Life just went on in this little hamlet day after day. Everyone just got around with his own business. Nothing at all interrupted the tranquility that blanketed this place, not a gunshot or an angry shout. Kalm was so safe that she could walk around even at night without her rod or her armlets. The only materia she carried now was her mother's hair ornament. Absolutely nothing would happen here today, not even the explosion of a Mako reactor, let alone the appearance of a handsome young man to make her day… 

Everything that had defined her old home in the great inner city was gone, replaced by a totally new environment, an entirely new experience. She had longed to return to her former life once their quest to save the Planet was over. She knew that Kalm was the ideal place for her to settle down and return to her previous occupation as a flower merchant (despite the apparent lack of customers), but still, she felt that something was missing somehow, something that she'd known once, but now she didn't have. She needed something that would make her life more beautiful. 

The silver - haired knave then entered this fair maiden's thoughts. How was he faring now? What was he doing now? Wasn't she supposed to watch over him? How could she help him? Here too was another person who had something missing from his life for a long time. He too was facing a totally new situation, but unlike her, he didn't have friends or family to lend him a hand, and thus it was up to her to be a sister to him (even though he was so much older than her!). It was a pity that she wasn't able to look out for him during those past few weeks, but now she had now excuse. Lucrecia had appointed her as his guardian angel, and she would keep her promise, live up to the lady's expectations even though she had only one wing, a wing that could not fly. Besides, he was such a strange person… and such a good looking guy…

*****

Sephiroth snorted, throwing the Masamune forward, watching the blade sink into the ground without so much as wobbling half an inch. Cut. Thrust. Parry. Leap and slash. Dodge and roll. These were such simple techniques… but what was happening to him? He was performing worse than Strife, let alone a SOLDIER trainee!

He had spent the last few weeks in isolation. Without the girl to order him around, he had practically nothing to do. Every morning he would step out of the town, long before anybody would wake up and sense his presence. He would practice his swordsmanship for hours at end, staying in the arena where he'd nearly killed Strife… and Gainsborough. When he was not training, he would venture further away, testing his skills on the monsters that roamed the black barren lands. The gil he had gained he had used to pay for his food and board. But no matter what he did, no matter where he went… the demons pursued him endlessly. He could not concentrate any more on his moves. The blade felt like lead in his hands, heavy with the thousands of bodies that had fallen upon it. The sword almost fell from his hands, made slippery by the blood of countless good men and women and children and infants. Every time he swung his sword, another person would dissipate from his sight. The rush of air that came with every stroke was a low and moaning death cry that would haunt this living nightmare of his. 

He had learned much after his death. His mother and his guardians had told him the truth behind his past, and he had learned far too much from them. Now more memories were coming to him unbidden, things that he'd never known before, things he'd never bothered to think through before. Those memories were never his at all, but he had been allowed to experience everything belonging to those with Jenova cells infused within them, everything that they had ever known or seen or heard or felt. 

__

Ha, ha, ha... Although he doesn't know... Ha, ha, ha... HA, HA, HA...! What will Sephiroth think when he finds out I'm his father? Always looking down on me like that. HA, HA, HA...!

Ha, ha, ha... I offered the woman with my child to Professor Gast's Jenova Project. When Sephiroth was still in the womb, we took the cells of Jenova... HA, HA, HA!

Hojo… was his father. The murderer who had killed Uncle Gast. The monster which had raped Aunt Ifalna and experimented upon her till she died. The thing that had used his mother as a human incubator, and sacrificed his own son, his very own flesh and blood, giving him up to evil, and laughed about it afterwards! It was a shame that the mad scientist was already dead, for this was a fiend lowly enough to deserve a death upon his blade. It was ironic, but of no comfort to him that Vincent, the one person who had truly loved his mother, had been the one to fire the killing shot that had put paid to that cruel man. 

So Hojo was responsible for bringing him into this world… not because of love, but the sake of personal "glory"! If he had a right to nonexistence, he would have claimed it without hesitation… he would rather not have been born than have that creature as a father. Hojo had turned him into a demon that had brought pain and sadness to the whole world. That father of his had condemned him from birth to become a tortured soul to be tormented day in and day out by the spectres of his past. By bringing him forth, Hojo had doomed him to a life of eternal servitude as a wormy slave, bound to wait upon that brainless kid hand and foot. 

The ground suddenly trembled, and a terrible roar tore at his ears. The memories fled from his sight, and now he saw a large green dragon in front of him, its burning red eyes boring into his. Its fangs were drawn and large drops of saliva pattered audibly on the ground. The creature's sail - like wings were beating quickly, sending clouds of dust his way. Its claws were already pointed towards him, and tendrils of smoke began snaking out of its nostrils. 

Dragons were never seen here, as they roosted only in the Nibel Mountains, yet winter was drawing close, and no doubt the monster was migrating to a warmer part of the Planet. Apparently it had come to the conclusion that Sephiroth would make a tasty meal to be enjoyed on the long journey southwards.

The general lifted the _no - dachi_, considering the monstrosity before him. An Ice 3 spell would kill the wyrm easily, and given that he wasn't able to use his weapon properly, probably the wisest thing to do. Yet the adversaries that haunted his past and present would never overcome him so long as his skill with his sword was peerless. Even now they sensed that he was weak, and they were becoming bolder and bolder, nipping at his senses like hungry dogs. He would prove to them that there was power in him yet, that his race was far from over.

He had spent far too long in useless contemplation. The dragon lifted its head, standing erect at its full height. The folds of his cloak began to beat against him, blocking his vision as the air around him was sucked away into the monster's maw as it prepared to unleash its hellish attack. A large gout from hell shot out towards him, swift as a bullet, swallowing him completely. Now he could see nothing but a blinding burning yellow curtain of infernal brilliance. He could see nothing else but the fire he had wrought. The superheated air seared his skin terribly… even as he had seen his victims being consumed slowly by the flames, seeing them turn from red to white to black, and then to nothingness. He could hear a crunching, crumpling, crackling noise as his clothes were set alight, as the whole town collapsed upon itself, burnt to a cinder by the magical fire he had set. He could smell nothing save that delicious, yet equally sickening aroma. That was the smell of his own burning flesh. The stink of destruction. The scent of death. It was everywhere, and he could not escape it. 

__

"Sephiroth, please spare us! We have done you no wrong! Don't kill us…" 

"All traitors to my race will die!"

"Aaauuggh!" 

__

"Mommy… mommy? What did you do to mommy?"

"No… I beg of you… no… don't hurt my daughter…"

"No mercy!"

__

"Eaygh!"

Once more he began to kill the people of Nibelheim again, one by one by one. The Fire materia flared and flared and flared until the whole town was ablaze, until everyone began to die. He laughed at the screams of those trapped in their homes, enjoying the sight of the flames licking away their flesh. He had succumbed to such depraved behaviour. He had become a barbarian. 

And when the villagers, crazed and despaired and afraid began to pour out, he began to hunger for their blood. Down the blade went, down it went again, and yet again. The screams of the dying invigorated him, the running blood soothed his eyes like fresh greenery. He had become nothing more than an angel from the blackest pit of hell, reveling in his neighbours' suffering. 

__

No! I'm not a monster! What is all this? Why am I doing all these? NO!

The ghosts of Nibelheim were attacking him again. What revenge they could not find in life, they sought to the fullest in death. They were forcing him to relive his day of infamy forever and ever. Each time the flames burned with more ferocity, the screams became more shrill and haunting, the faces of the dead became more twisted and more terrifying. On that night not to remember he had started down the dark path, and now it seemed that it would forever dominate his destiny. And still the Masamune swung downwards, smoking with bloody execution…

And he had killed her daughter.

__

With one stroke I will slay two foes. That stupid girl will giggle no longer… and you, Cloud… you puppet… you think me mad… I will teach you the true meaning of insanity!

And once more he saw himself plunging down… to her death. The Masamune exploded from her bosom, and he saw the girl's eyes widen in abject shock. He could see the tears coming to those dying angel eyes now… he had caused the girl to cry! The green gemstone bounced off the stepping stones, vanishing into oblivion. He had destroyed a thing of beauty! The pink ribbon fluttered towards him, sticking to his face, and he peeled it away contemptuously, tossing it into the water. He had slain Innocence herself!

He thrust one booted foot onto her small back. If the blow had not already killed her, he would have split her spine. The sword came free once more, and… even though he hoped it wouldn't be true, it emerged stainless! The tears came to his demonic eyes as he could not restrain his mirth any longer. A horrible hollow chilling sound filled the entire cavern… and to his horror, it was coming from him! Strife was kneeling before him, crying like a little girl, cradling Gainsborough in his arms… he had unmanned his enemy! Her blood was pouring all over the puppet, drenching the entire altar, dripping into the pool below… desecrating this holy place! The fragrance of her wilting life was rising up like incense to his mother… that devil he'd been foolish enough to worship! 

__

Who is the insane man now? Who's the one feeling angry and sad now? What am I now? 

Gainsborough was still alive… Strife was still alive… but forever would their victory haunt him, remind him that everything he had strived for - all his power, all his prestige, and his skills came to nothing in the end! He was only a worm compared to that failed experiment and this cow - eyed flower seller! He was a fool to have challenged them! By defeating them that day, he had given them the strength to secure his ultimate defeat! 

__

Holy… Holy... is there... Holy is shining... Aeris' prayer is shining! 

And Sephiroth! To the settling of everything!

His Bizzaro and Safer forms had been defeated already, and now the puppet was coming to take his life. The white vortex receded, and Strife slowly emerged. He was unwillingly invited to view the showdown of fate once again… the duel that he had lost… 

Time froze as the former SOLDIER stepped forth. His hurtful weapon was held high above him, the red blade blazing with all his pent - up passions, waiting for this very day to be released in bloody judgement. He had caused Strife pain and sadness, and now… it seemed that he himself would be on the receiving end now.

His expression was hard and firm, clear and fixed, no more contorted or struggling with anger or hurt or loss… he had made this clone suffer so much that now nothing could ever make him suffer again. Strife's eyes were deadly blue - green slits, smoldering coldly and harshly, hungering and thirsting for want of what it could never behold now… those angel eyes that he had closed permanently with the Masamune! The puppet was not afraid any more. No more words would come from him now, as his blade would sing his eulogy for his lost love. A love that could never be… thanks to his foolishness.

But still he had gone on laughing, unaware of the clear and present danger his folly had brought about, oblivious to the avatar of vengeance he had unwittingly created, now ready to claim his damned soul. He'd thought that he had become all - powerful, that he was superior to everyone at last! That collection of cells that called themselves Cloud - how could it possibly defeat him? Strife was just a body, a piece of meat that had somehow acquired free will! But now… only now did he know that he'd underestimated that man too… just as he'd underestimated that little crying girl he had seen so long ago! He had done nothing even as he saw the red streaks of energy strike out when the puppet - turned - hero summoned his strength. He was laughing even as the sword began to blaze at the tip with a star of unearthly white death. There was noway the young man could _ever _besthim… there was no way that little creature could kill a god! But oh! The pain! The shower of blood! He continued to smile, as he thought that the pain would go away, that the wounds were superficial, far from adequate to hurt a higher being like him! But the agony became more and more unbearable as his final fate became more and more evident with every swift stroke of Strife's sword! Every part of his body was being ripped apart in a fatal flurry of destructive energy! The puppet could kill a god! He was dying again! He could see nothing but the red mist, hear nothing but the Ultima weapon butchering him, taste nothing but his own blood, smell the stink of his own flesh being exposed to the air, feel nothing but the anger… and the sadness at realising that his pride was literally killing him now!

__

OMNISLASH!

What was he thinking? Strife had not begun his attack yet! He wasn't dead yet! He wasn't going to die! No! He would win this time! Cloud may have been a strong opponent, but he was but dust before the great General Sephiroth! Hadn't he defeated him earlier? Hadn't he proved in the rocky circle that he was the better swordsman? He couldn't let that clone kill him all the time! The pain would be too great to endure! The embarrassment was already too great to bear! 

__

NO! No more nightmares! Let the madness stop! NOOO!

He gripped the Masamune with both hands, sprinting towards Strife, resolving to cut the puppet off at mid - stroke. The tip of the holy sword touched the ground, tracing a fiery line, leaving a trail of molten rock as the last few feet melted away before him. At last he swung upwards, executing a terrible stroke that would surely shear off that blond head without a brain! And as the blade made contact with Strife's weak body, everything turned white! It was Holy! Her prayer was extinguishing him! No! He would not lose this time! Not to him! Not to her! Not to anyone! Never again! Blindly he lashed out at the light, hitting hard in every possible direction. His blade flashed in an unending flight of steel as he began to strike faster and faster at his invisible adversaries, every single ounce of vigour and energy at his command shunted into destroying the foes he knew were everywhere around him, yet nowhere to be seen! But for all his efforts, he was but one lone, intermittent blip of defiance drowned in the sea of pure brightness. He knew that it was a useless gesture against the inevitable, but he would never ever give up while he could still hold his sword! 

The light faded at long last, and Sephiroth found that he could see again. He was on his knees, the Masamune at his feet. Of the dragon there was no sight, though the grey talus was now a sodden dark brown. He turned, looking for the wyrm, and found it. Numerous glistening red chunks were scattered all around him, steaming slightly. A few greenish - yellow sacs lay here and there, still throbbing visibly, as if the dragon (or whatever was left of it) was unable to concede that a lower lifeform had defeated it. His clothes felt heavy and sticky on him, but he should not have feared, for this time his blade too was stained completely red. He'd merely killed a monster. But still he remembered what happened several weeks earlier… then he was covered in blood… the ground was covered with blood… the girl's blood… 

The man with white hair shook his head, wiping his eyes with his wet hands. He tried to assure himself that nothing was wrong, that Gainsborough was perfectly all right, yet he couldn't tear his mind away from the sorrow and hatred and pain that he, and he alone had caused! He couldn't stop dwelling on the humiliation he was suffering because of his foolish failings! He could make no mistake about it this time. He was going crazy… and he could do absolutely nothing about it!

*****

With two light steps, Sephiroth shuffled aside, letting his opponent's attack slice through the space he had just vacated. Even as sword arm went behind his shoulder, tensing up for the counterattack, he twisted his torso, changing his facing without moving a step. And as he turned the sword swept forward, a motion that, with his strength and the long reach of the Masamune, would strike his enemy in between the shoulder blades. 

He lowered the blade. Once again he was in control of his skills. By right he should have been happy. But now he was no longer at ease. What was happening to him? Hadn't he gone over this so many times in that emerald hell? Hadn't he seen this an uncountable number of times whenever he fell asleep? 

He could never stand defeat… because he had never been defeated before in his life! He knew that he was supposed to "atone" for his sins, but still he longed for revenge! At first he had wanted to kill the puppet, and he had nearly done so at the stone arena… but Gainsborough had stopped him! And Gainsborough… it was so unfair that he could not kill her! Why did she have to be Auntie's daughter? If only she wasn't the lone thread keeping him to this (miserable) life! If only she wasn't… so pretty! He would show them the meaning of vengeance! But no, in coming back here, he was denied even the chance to get even, for he could not even lay a finger on either of them! But then how would he ever get over his past, how could he slay the monsters tormenting his soul, if he couldn't find a way to lay them to rest? What was he supposed to do? Was there anything he could possibly do at all?

The SOLDIER general lifted up his trusty steel, holding it close to his face, ever ready to respond to any attack from the monsters created by his mind. Since young he had faced adversity, and the years had taught him that there was only one way to surmount it. But it had failed him once already. However, he knew from his experience that there was another option… the choice that he himself had forced others to make… but he knew that he would rather die a second time than accept it. 

Sephiroth managed to fix his thoughts upon the next set of moves, and upwards he soared as he exercised the _qinggong_ gravity - defying skill he had learned from the Wutaian masters. The air offered him no resistance as he sailed forward, right at another imaginary foeman. He leaned backwards, and his legs came up, almost to chest level, and he launched a series of quick kicks to stun and knock the phantom off balance. Holding his blade with both hands now, he landed with one hard jabbing steel - toed foot, pinning his opponent to the ground. With one critical strike to the heart, the fallen swordsman finished off his enemy. 

While performing his routine, he had felt the hairs on his back tingle and a familiar nagging presence encroaching on his already beleaguered mind. His senses, honed by years of war and wilderness, told him that he was not alone. He thought that it was another migratory dragon insistent upon eating him alive, but the Jenova cells told him otherwise, and his suspicions were confirmed when for the briefest moment he saw a hint of pink lurking in the sidelines. Gainsborough had arrived.

The Cetra waif was sitting down on a boulder, flower basket at her side, staring straight at him. She had been observing all of his moves. She had obviously come to discover a potential flaw in his swordplay, and no doubt beneath that innocent cow - eyed gaze, she must have been secretly taking down mental notes, saving up what she considered nice little tidbits to squirrel away to Strife, telling him to take due care. But then again… her large eyes were now even wider than usual. Was she actually impressed? She was practically rooted to the ground. She looked more airheaded than normal, in fact. These were but his most basic moves. There was nothing about them to gawk around like an idiot.

The point of the Masamune touched the rocky earth as Sephiroth returned to the ready position he personally favoured. He had come here to practice his techniques, and only now was he regaining some semblance of competency. He would not let Gainsborough think that he could not hold his own as a martial arts exponent. He would show her, whether or not he was her slave, that he wasn't one of her little dolls to be trifled with!

He spied a large rock the size of a man's head a short distance in front of him. This would serve as the perfect object for the lesson he would teach Gainsborough. Blue - white electricity sparkled along the eight feet of metal, buzzing and crackling softly as the mage fire erupted into life. With one twist of his wrist he drove the blade into the hard earth, and a deep baritone rumble was heard as the ground beneath him began to shake. The tremors radiated outwards, as if a small earthquake had just occurred. The rock shot into the air, dislodged from its resting place by the shockwave. The silver - haired swordsman charged forward, raising his blade high, and when he was a few feet away from the large airborne stone he leapt upwards, and with one broad blue arc, he brought his sword down hard on the rock. The whole world flickered white as a terrible jagged argent beam of might flew down from heaven, drawn to his target by the charged blade. A monstrous crack of doom burst his ears as the rock was rent apart by the bolt of destructive light, and a large ring of rock fragments hurtled outwards, scattering to every corner of the arena. 

Landing quietly on the ground, he turned to face the girl, and he was promptly gratified by what he saw. Gainsborough's face was now creamy white, and her eyes looked as if they were about to pop out of their sockets. Both little hands were clasped over her open mouth, as if she'd just seen a rat or a cockroach. She seemed suitably thunderstruck by his little demonstration, and for a moment he wondered if she'd fall off the stone she was sitting on. She quickly recovered, however, and she got off the boulder, basket in hand, stepping slowly towards him. When she was a few feet away from him, she halted, looking upwards at him, engaging him now with a wide beaming smile and those wide angelic eyes… filled with newfound awe and interest…

"You were so impressive, Sephiroth! Here's a little something for you!" She reached into her basket, gently placing into his coat pocket a rose, light and pink like her dress, small and delicate like her. 

The villain glared at the smiling girl, whatever little colour in his face even had quickly retreating, and his visage abruptly turned harsh, becoming the mask of anger his victims always saw before he killed them. What did she think he was? So he was but a pet in her eyes, lowly enough to be rewarded with a little treat whenever he performed some nice tricks to her liking! How humiliating! So… the General who once had the Planet in his hands was now reduced to eating out of the hands of that ditzy adolescent like an obedient little dog! His entire life had been one long struggle against a world filled with hurtful and cruel people, and he thought that he'd triumphed at last! But now… what would everyone think if they saw him as merely a lowly street performer? To think that such flagrantly foul words would ooze out of those small lips! 

Letting go of his blade, he yanked the flower from his pocket, and with his free hand he grabbed the blossom, crushing it in his palm. With a sound like tearing cloth he ripped the petals from the stalk, throwing them back to the girl, hurling them in her face! This was intolerable! This was appalling! He would have none of it!

In response, he saw the girl give him a flash of that trademark smile, that cheerful look so terribly typical of her, as if she would never be one to feel down at all, as if she was never hurt by anything at all. It appeared that his "rejection" had not even grazed her a single bit, but he was certain that she was holding something back… 

"Come on, Sephiroth! That rose was so nice! But it's all right, I don't mind you at all! I'm going to help you, so be a good guy!" Her smile broadened, revealing her small, white china teeth. Waving to him, she broke off, turning back towards the town. Now he was left to himself again… and now that his "guardian angel" had left, his troubles would come back for sure, and in greater numbers.

That infectious grin of hers. On that day so many years ago she had appeared to him as just an innocent little girl with milk teeth. Had Gainsborough changed so much since then? On one hand she kept claiming that she wanted to help him, yet she dared to insult him like this! This was so bewildering, so incongruous! But he had to keep reminding himself that deceit could be found around every corner. Even a child could tell a lie with equal facility as an adult. They had to be seen, not heard. Gainsborough, though she seemed so childlike all the time, was no different. 

He would have to remain watchful, and maintain his grim vigil over the enemy…

*****

The morning was already gone. The breeze blew no more, and it seemed far colder now. The lilting trill of the birds had stopped, and the light seemed to have faded somehow. The man was not willing to emerge from the shadows yet. He was still so afraid… so suspicious of her slightest gesture… What did she do wrong this time? How had she provoked him? He had flown into such a terrible rage. He had been so fearsome to behold… his anger had turned a handsome knight like him into an ugly dragon. She hadn't been prepared to receive such a violent response from him. It had been so much easier to draw Cloud out of his shell, it took only a few giggles, a promise and a date to turn the sandy - haired man into a fine young gentleman. But for Sephiroth… he was so reluctant to share his thoughts with someone else… he was so hesitant about allowing someone to get to know him… to the extent that he would defend himself against even the most casual onlooker as he would an enemy after his life. She would have to handle him with care… as carefully as she would a child.

"Afternoon, Aerith!"

Blinking away the milky film of sleep from her sight, Aeris found a small face shining at her, alight with mirth and cheekiness. Marlene had returned from school. It was time for her to be a sister to the little girl.

The florist pushed aside the covers, putting away her comforter, patting her young friend's head.

"Are you hungry, Marlene?" she asked, a hint of worry creeping into her voice. Silently she scolded herself for falling asleep too soon. She'd forgotten to prepare lunch for the family! Indeed, she'd gone to bed without even removing her jacket or her ribbon, and now her hair was probably a mess. 

"Dun worry, Aunt Elmyra cooked for me! She told me not to disturb yoo! But can't I play with yoo, Aerith?" 

"Why not, dear? This sounds fun!" She'd never had anyone to play with when she was a child, and she'd spend her days looking out of the window, watching the children enjoy themselves, not without feeling a slight, gnawing pang of emptiness. She wanted to be out there, playing with them. But they had never allowed her to join them. Everyone in the neighbourhood knew that she was "different", that she could hear the voice of the Planet and speak with the people in the spirit world, and they had unnerved them greatly. The kids ran away from her whenever she left the house. They didn't want to have anything to do with "that mad witch". Even those few whom she could approach dealt with her at arm's length, refusing to say anything more than a hello and a goodbye. So… she had sought solace in the companionship of her flowers. 

"Oh yeah!" The flower merchant was rewarded with the sight of Marlene bouncing several feet in the air, positively elated. A small marker pen fell out of her pocket, skittering across the floor. Realising what had happened, the schoolgirl quickly stretched out one small hand, grabbing the marker, concealing it behind her back, but her grown - up friend had already seen it. 

Aeris presently got up, straightening out her dress and jacket, padding on bare feet across the pink - wallpapered room. Reaching the dresser, she took out her hairbrush, beginning to straighten the locks of chestnut hair that had been bent and twisted around as she slept. And it was then, when she gazed into the looking - glass, that she issued forth a startled yelp. 

Painstakingly painted on her cheek was one large flower, done in bright blue ink. Pulling out her hanky, she tried to rub it away, but the ink was indelible, and Marlene's handiwork persisted. She wheeled around to face the little kid, who was even now clutching her side, nearly bending double as a tide of giggling overcame her. So that was what she was doing with that pen!

"Marlene! How could you do this?!" The floral pattern had became more than just an outline, as a generous splash of crimson colour quickly filled it in. Her hands flew upwards, framing her face symmetrically, concealing her embarrassment. "You naughty girl!" 

The girl suddenly ceased her laughter, realising that the flower lady wasn't taking her practical joke very well. She deftly shifted gears, entering damage control mode. Her eyes began to water, her knees began to chatter, and a frightened gasp came out at just the right time as she quaked like a little leaf about to be snapped away from the tree by a torrid draft. 

"…Aerith… Are yoo angry with mee…?" Several large teardrops began to fall in sync with her voice, which had become soft, hesitant and wavering. In the space of a heartbeat, the cheerful and bubbly Marlene had transformed into a teary and mournful little girl. 

Aeris stood frozen, unable to respond. What had she done now? If annoying Sephiroth was bad enough, now she had driven her little friend to tears! Had she forgotten that she had been the crying girl once? She had approached the children, wanting to make friends with them, and they had responded by pelting her with stones and throwing unkind words her way. She had hidden in the storeroom, out of Elmyra's sight, crying herself to sleep. Everyone hated her! Marlene had merely wanted to have a little fun… and she had taken it way too seriously! Those boys and girls were not to blame, as they were afraid of her, and they had misunderstood her intentions. She was now an adult, and surely she knew better than to behave as uncaringly as they had! This was an excellent chance for her to discover what fun she could've had, had she only been a little more fortunate… and it would be nothing but cruel to make Barret's little daughter suffer like she had! 

The Ancient squatted down, embracing the girl, patting her back, wiping away her tears. "I'm sorry, darling… I wasn't angry with you! I want to play too… I want you to be happy." 

The smile returned to the girl's face as quickly as the tears had come. "Yay! You're the best, flower lady!" The pen reappeared in her hand, "Let's have more fun!" 

The young Cetra sighed as her hair was pushed away, and she felt the marker press against her clean cheek. Marlene was happy now. When was the last time she had enjoyed herself? When had she last put aside the burden of age and responsibility, becoming a free spirit, turning into a child again, free to savour the beauty surrounding her, not caring about the sorrows and pains that had come to symbolise their world? Oh, it had seemed so long ago, that enchanting, yet heartbreaking night when she was truly alone with the clouds, watching the starlight burst in rainbow hues all around her. She had returned feeling ready to take on anything, confident that everything would turn out fine for her in the end. She wanted to discover the magic again. Enjoying a little game with the kid was nothing perhaps, but even in such a trivial activity she would be able to savour the joys of being a little girl again. She would emerge completely confident and content, like a happy child. Then… she might be able to withstand the cold perhaps, maybe even bring warmth and life back to the bleak, dying autumn. 

"Make me beautiful, Marlene… and when you're done, I'll see what I can do for you, you sweet little thing." 

*****

In a corner of the bedroom did Sephiroth stand, secretly watching the touching little scene with no small amount of disdain. The foolishness of Gainsborough never ceased to amaze him. She had allowed the girl to doodle all over her, treating herself like a mere piece of scrap paper! Now, the manipulator was being manipulated. What benefit could she possibly obtain by lowering herself to humour that little kid? Surely someone as cunning and intelligent as her would knew that she didn't need to go to the extent of trying to appeal for sympathy votes from that girl! No one would ever pay attention to a child. No one would listen to them. Yet… if she knew that she could expect nothing in return… why in heaven's name was she acting completely to her detriment, trying to please the kid at the expense of her personal pride and dignity? Gainsborough hadn't punished the child… but she had set her annoyance aside, trying to make her happy. No one would ever do this… no one would ever be that nice to a little one… except Auntie and Uncle…

__

He had been hiding in a cluster of trees near the playground, waiting for the boys and girls to finish their game before he himself could go near and play by himself. On no account could he be seen, for they hated him, though he had done nothing to trouble them. But they had discovered him despite his best efforts, and as a body the children had hunted him down, punching and kicking and stepping on him. "Sissy! Long - haired freak! Weakling!" they had chanted as they continued their causeless chastisement. After what seemed an eternity, they had finally left, hissing and spitting at him. 

It took a long time for Sephiroth to hobble back to the house, his tail between his legs, dragging along on the ground. Stepping inside, he noticed a new piece of equipment near the doorway. The Professor's work never ceased, even after he had left the laboratory, and often he would see his uncle working on an experiment inside the living room, with Ifalna serving him a cup of tea or a piece of cake, sitting at his side, chatting him up. 

The device was a complex thing in itself, a full metre in height, length and width, boasting a large array of knobs, buttons, switches and levers. Its numerous lights flashed coldly at him, and the dials and indicators continued to swivel back and forth nonchalantly. The machine continued its pre - programmed processes, ignoring him altogether, regarding his presence somewhat unsympathetically. 

So this was how the whole wide world would treat him. They were all treating him like a slave, a sub - human. Oh, how he wished he could show them that he deserved better, that he was at least their equal, or even better than them! Then they wouldn't think of him like this! They wouldn't laugh at him! They wouldn't bully him! He didn't want to be forever pushed around by someone else! He wanted to be strong!

He snarled, and he hammered against the glass plates and indicator screens with his balled fists, his foot repeatedly making fierce contact with the large panels and instrument bays of the machine. But despite his best efforts to defeat the system, the device stood unmoved. His toes were aching terribly, yet he hadn't even made the slightest dent in its thick metal hide. His knuckles were skinned, the blood slowly welling up in protest, but the large glass screens were not even scratched. 

Reality then began to speak to him, simply and mercilessly. He was but an insignificant speck of dust to be blown about at the wind's whims. He was nothing at all. Even the dogs and cats in the street were far better than him. At least they had fang and claw, and they could fight back. And as for him… he couldn't even lift a finger against them. He was reduced to placating himself by striking out at an inanimate object that didn't even know it was being attacked, which couldn't even feel the pain he was trying to inflict. Might would always prevail in the end. You would forever be a slave to one who was stronger than you.

"What are you doing, Sephy?!"

The noise he had made had sent Professor Gast running to the hall, where he saw his ward attempt to destroy the machine. His uncle always treated his equipment with the same respect as he did the written word, maintaining them properly, never abusing them if they failed to perform the operations he requested, and he expected his colleagues to do the same. He had no doubt obtained this particular device out of his own pocket, and with no small amount of effort. Sephiroth saw the blue eyes shrink slowly, the lips turning into a thin line, all the lines on his face becoming more and more pronounced, the starched white coat stiffening further as the bent, middle - aged man began to stand up straight. He shut his eyes and waited, expecting his foster father to punish him, to treat him as carelessly and callously as those kids had done. But the long - awaited moment of parental vengeance never materialised. 

"Go ahead and beat me! Isn't that what you want to do?"

The Professor merely looked long and hard at him, before shaking his head, laying a hand on the shoulder of the downtrodden boy. 

"Sephy… I'm not going to punish you. I can always get my machine replaced. But we have only one of you… you're like a son to me… why should I hurt you like this? Hitting you will never solve the problem." 

"What… Uncle? You're not beating me? But everyone wants to hurt me! No one wants to play with me! No one cares about me! The whole world hates me!" 

"Hmph… those bullies… how dare they! Sephy, don't compare yourself with them! You're a far better person than all of them combined. Don't let them make you think that everyone's like this. There are good people out there… someone will appreciate you for sure. And no matter what happens, even if everyone's against you, you're still one of us… As long as we're here, you'll be liked and loved… and you definitely won't be alone." 

His uncle's gentle words had taken away the anger, the helplessness and hopelessness welling up within him, and for a moment he forgot about his inferiority and his craving for strength and power. Was the Professor right? Would someone out there actually take him at face value, with all his faults, all his wrongdoing, even accept his madness? Those few who cared for him - his mother, his guardians - they were all in heaven now. They might be watching over him, but he was still effectively soldiering on alone. And the world was still as cruel as ever. Had Uncle Gast been merely trying to molly - coddle him? 

The SOLDIER's thoughts returned to the scene before him, feeling a lump settle in his throat, getting amazed and appalled as he saw what the child was doing to Gainsborough now. Her watched as her hair was parted in the centre, then tied into two long ponytails, one hanging at each side. But that was not the end of it. The girl Marlene then began to twist and turn the two locks of hair, twisting them round and round the sides of her friend's head until it seemed as if Gainsborough had grown a pair of ram's horns. It that was supposed to be some exotic and fanciful hairstyle, to him it seemed as if she had taped two chocolate buns to her head. 

The kid was not done yet, though. In a laughable pretence of being precocious, she had brought out the tools, implements and consumables used for vanity's sake. The air around the two girls was soon clouded with slight puffs of pink powdery smoke before the wind sent them away. It was fortunate that he was only here in spirit, otherwise he'd be choked to death by that infernal cloying fragrance caused by the blushpots. Not satisfied with using the powder puff to her heart's content, she had taken out a tube of lipstick, holding its bullet - pointed tip towards her target as casually as one would hold a pencil. And like someone who was holding a pencil for the first time in her life, she started colouring her friend's face with it, and she did not stop until the rouge had receded well into the little plastic container. 

Even though Sephiroth was a hardened warrior, he still felt his stomach turn and the lumps becoming more pronounced and harder to swallow. Not only did the gardener now have a horrendous hairstyle, her face had become a cheery pinkish mess, lumpy and crusted with powder, the monotony of it all broken by many merry red polka dots painted haphazardly everywhere. The white mage had changed jobs, turning into a clown.

The schoolgirl slowly led her to the mirror, and when the Ancient at last stared at her marvelous countenance, to his surprise, she did not faint or scream as he had expected a wuss like her to do. Instead, he heard a soft sound of mirth, clear and warm, rich and pure - it was the music of a delighted heart. She placed her hand on her forehead, covering her face as she continued to laugh at her own embarrassment. Her eyes narrowed, shrinking to small green slits, but they were not forced shut by anger or sadness. Flooded with tears, they seemed to glow warmly now, flowing with liquid magic… like a spring from paradise… 

Gainsborough was happy. Too happy for him. This was so strange… how could this make her so happy? Why was she able to laugh herself to tears over this? It wasn't as if her dire plans were coming to fruition, and neither had her enemy been cowed into submission! Why was it so easy for her to smile and laugh and forget about all her problems while he was the damned one doomed to watch with envy and agony? She was no better than him, and he was no worse than her!

She had surpassed even her normal petty, childish self this time. Her behaviour was so volatile, so incongruous, so devoid of constancy. He thought that he'd had the measure of her. He thought that he had fully understood the doctrine his enemy followed, her tactics, her standard operating procedures, but now she herself had thrown the strategy book out of the window. She was trying to control him, be a false light to everybody… manipulate the world around her, gently coerce everyone into fulfilling her airheaded aims (what was she trying to achieve anyway?)… but here she was, wasting her time over such a trivial matter as entertaining a kid! She had readily volunteered to become the thrall of that little whelp, but why? Did she even care in the first place? No one who sought to dominate and to rule would ever stoop so low! What was wrong with her? Why couldn't he understand her?!?

But then… something was sifting slowly back up to the surface of his mind, dredged up from the depths of oblivion by the catastrophes that had shattered the fragile plates that comprised his consciousness… those memories… those good memories… buried underneath years upon years of suffering, an ancient city forgotten by time… they were all returning now… telling him of what he'd once enjoyed… what he'd always missed, what he wanted to have again…

Even though the children would never play with him, Auntie Ifalna was there to take their place. Wasn't she always so cheerful, so ready to laugh whenever he did something funny? Her smile had calmed him. The sound of her merry voice had warmed him. And he had gone on, doing any number of silly things just to amuse her. It had been so delightful to have someone enjoying his company, appreciating whatever he did, being happy with him. He had felt… contented… He had wanted for nothing then… 

Could he reasonably entertain the possibility that she was more like her mother than just the way they looked alike? Was she actually motivated to take care of the child because she _cared _for her? But to do so would be to reject everything he'd believed of her from the very start. Could he afford to do that? Could he tread safely down that dark path? What would happen to him? Would he succumb totally to her will? Would he turn into a hapless fool like his clones if he were to lower his guard now? Aeris Gainsborough… that villainess in pink… if only she wasn't so complex or so perplexing! 

There was a slow creak of brass hinges, and the old crone who had wielded the chopper hobbled in, passing right through his spirit self. He snickered as he saw her blanch and take several large steps backward from the monstrosity that appeared to be her adopted daughter. 

"Look at you, Aeris! What's happened to you?" She shook her head, glaring at Marlene, who was still in possession of the make - up kit, "And you! Doing this to your own friend! Shame on you!"

"But she wanted to play with mee, Auntee!" The kid did not cry now, but now she flashed her caretaker with a disarming grin. The small one was smart for her age. She knew which approach to use, which cards to play. 

Elmyra clucked her tongue, giving the flower seller a disapproving look. "You're spoiling her, Aeris. Off to the bathroom! You were never like that even when you were a little girl!"

"Yes, mom," Gainsborough spoke meekly, shuffling lightly away. Even though she had been cowed by the hag, the light - heartedness refusing to fall from her face. 

He heard a rough, brash voice coming from below. The puppet had returned. As much as he wanted to continue his observation of the enemy, it was time for him to leave. While the Jenova cells made his spirit body invisible to mortal eyes, yet it was not impossible for someone to detect him. The bizarre enchantments in the Temple of the Ancients had defeated his disguise, and Strife, who also possessed the cells, was able to see him easily. He had to retire now, or be discovered again in a humiliating fashion. 

He still didn't know what made him personally visit the Cetra in the hospital. It would have been so easy just to will himself to where she was, and he would have been able to observe her with the utmost secrecy, without the fear of being seen by her. But then… that look on her face when he'd awakened her had been priceless… his initial embarrassment had been overshadowed by stranger emotions, and now they were starting to tug at him again…

Now he had plenty of things to think about, and plenty to get confused over. His hair was tossed into the air as he unfurled his huge black bat wing, and he glided towards the window, a large dark shape that cast no shadow, the sweep and beating of his wing unheard by anyone. In a moment the sun peeked once more into the room. The melodies of birdsong began anew with greater gusto, as if nature was waiting with joyful anticipation for the end of the season, for the jolly snows to come and the good cheer that came with it. The chilling touch of autumn was gone. 

*****

Reno sat at the open window, listening to the lonesome lullaby of the night wind, taking a long drink from his bottle as he waited for the time to pass him by. 

So Aeris was really alive. Those reports were actually true. He'd thought that the blue - masked guards had screwed things up like they usually did, but he'd seen her with his own eyes… and at that moment he knew what the old idiom "the living dead" really meant. 

He'd notified Shinra HQ of his findings, and his pride was very slightly injured by the communications returning to him. Apparently, Rufus didn't trust him very much either, as they'd wanted confirmation of his sightings. He'd duly submitted some video footage, voice clips and photographs, believing that the experts would be able to compare them with the records they had on file about the Ancient. But his boss was still not convinced, (the robot President was probably still a bit nonplussed that the Turks had disbanded after he'd "died"), and thus the red - headed spy had been ordered to obtain a DNA sample to verify her identity. That had been a rather simple matter. A "chance meeting" in the hospital, and the nurse had given in to his every whim… he had taken what he'd needed and left her hugging the pillow (hopefully Elena wouldn't hear of it… business to her was no excuse for him to have pleasure, especially if she wasn't the woman involved). 

He frowned over the long string of text messages clogging up his PHS inbox. The report from the labs was now in. Shinra had several separate and identical DNA profiles of the girl on record, each taken at a different time, and the blood sample he'd taken from the nurse had been compared against all three of them. Hojo had collected genetic material from her twice, first when he had captured her as a baby; later on, when Tseng brought her in, the mad scientist had managed to extract a fresh set of cells before Cloud and the others had rescued her. Finally, a recovery team had provided conclusive evidence of her death by obtaining a tissue sample from the Forgotten Capital after Sephiroth and Avalanche had concluded their little battle. The medical team had verified that his sample had registered a hundred percent match with all three genetic profiles. 

There could be no doubt now that this fine young lady was really the flower merchant who had died over a year ago, but still he could not understand how she had come back to life. For a moment he pondered over whether the girl was a clone, but dismissed it quickly. Only Shinra possessed cloning technology, and the know - how behind it was almost as jealously guarded as that of the Jenova Project, and despite the fall of Shinra, the secret remained firmly in the power company's hands. To his best knowledge, he knew of only one true clone ever been produced, and that was the duplicate of Sephiroth that had caused them so many problems. There was no way the Cetra girl was one of their clones. 

At any rate, he would be able to ask her about it very soon. Their orders had been changed the moment her identity had been confirmed. They were now told to attack immediately, and he'd received very specific instructions from the President himself on what to do with the flower seller. But he had to concede that he was not terribly satisfied with the way things were proceeding. He'd complained about the lack of men, that two squads of SOLDIERs was far from sufficient to deal with all nine members of Avalanche, but the robotic CEO apparently had his hearing a wee bit affected ever since Diamond Weapon blew him to bits. To think of it, Rufus had gotten more than just a little dotty… and a tad more grumpy and impatient to boot. 

But then, he could overlook the boss's tall order, as they had reasons of their own to perform this mission. Rude had simply nodded when he was told of their orders, while Elena… she had been sulking in a corner for the past few days for some reason or other, but now she seemed willing enough, very willing indeed. She had even given him a rather grim smile, and proceeded to load her gun with a sense of purpose he hadn't seen in her before. After all, they were the Turks… weren't they taught from day one that they were capable of handling anything? Maybe they were, but there was a limit to what they could do… and he could only hope that this job wasn't beyond their abilities. But then, death was merely an occupational hazard.

The corporate raider waited as his watch took silent note of the passing time, watching the automatic mechanism make its endless cycles around the illuminated face without a single jerk or jitter. His little vigil was coming to an end soon, yet his jittery mind sought a diversion to pass the time. 

It was in the burnt - out subways of Midgar, amongst the melting and buckling ruins of the once - great organisation that the Turks had surrendered what they had prized most dearly. They had been charged with the task of destroying the rebel group, and once the Turks were entrusted with a mission, they would _never_ fail to complete it. They were the covert enforcers of Shinra's will, the gloved fist of the organisation, a super - snazzy secret service loyal only to the company. They would always succeed - one way or another, by hook or by crook. The end always justified the means. And not only would they complete their mission, they would complete it on their terms too. No fighting while on holiday, and not until they had finished their drinks. They would make the enemy wait for them… and the bad guys would be pissing in their pants long before the men in blue showed up.

The Turks had found Avalanche in those dark tunnels, and the eight who had survived were at their strongest, motivated by the destruction of their enemies, fired up by the desire to avenge their fallen comrades, to seek redress for their sufferings. His group had only just begun to realise what sort of plight they had fallen into. Those who had assigned them the mission were already dead. The President, the best and only authority figure in the company, was gone, and those remaining were only madmen trying to grab a share of what little was left of the company's assets. The organisation they had devoted their very lives to had been destroyed. There was nothing for them to strive for now, nothing to be gained from continuing the fight, nothing to celebrate about even if they were to win.

Reno had only Hobson's choice left open to him, and it was a hard one, as it went against everything he'd ever learnt as a proud member of Shinra Inc. And so… the once - proud Turks had retreated without avenging their injured pride. Pious aspirations had taken a back seat to practicality. But now… both parties had survived. Shinra was back in business. No longer were the three of them unemployed salarymen, but now the Mako firm had welcomed them back. They had a job to complete, and they had old scores to settle. 

From a deep pocket of his coat he removed a long, thin rod the length of his forearm. He turned a little dial, and noted with satisfaction as the power bars quickly climbed up the small display screen. The nightstick was fully charged. Setting down his weapon of choice, Reno withdrew a pistol from a concealed shoulder holster. Depressing the release mechanism, he caught the magazine with his free hand. Reassured by the glint of the brass bullet casing peeking out of the lip of the magazine, he slid it slowly back into the gun. He pulled the slide rearwards and released it, hearing a tangible click as the weapon was cocked and the chamber was loaded.

Now there was one final duty he was required to discharge as the leader of the Shinra Manufacturing Department in Administrative Research. With one hand he began to button up his shirt, and with the other he casually dusted off the remnants of a hastily eaten TV dinner from his coat. His dark blue designer suit also doubled up as a set of pyjamas, and it took him a little while to smoothen out the kinks and creases he had forced his clothes to suffer. A brief splash here and there with his eau de toilette, and he was done. As a Turk, he had to appear decently presentable, especially since he was going into battle. 

Reno stared again at his timepiece, waiting for the longest and thinnest hand to complete its final revolution. It seemed to take forever for it to pass the number twelve, but eventually the appointed time came strolling happily up towards him. It was now three in the morning. The night was darkest in the hours just before dawn, and his opponents, startled from deepest sleep, would be too weary to fight - or so the spy novel said. He thumbed a switch on his PHS, and was replied with a short burst of static as he was instantly connected to the rest of his strike team (or what would be left of it, after dealing with Avalanche). 

"Good morning everybody, have you all slept tight tonight? Just to let you know, the forests of Timber have changed, but the owls are still there."

"Yes! We attack now! But what sort of code word is this, Reno?"

The redhead gritted his teeth, resisting the horribly sweet temptation to send back a stinging rebuke over the airwaves. Elena had done it yet again. The blonde was a competent operative, but she always had a remarkable propensity to give the game away at the most critical times. If the enemy had been snooping on them, she would have single - handedly compromised the entire operation by now. Well… the mistake had already been made, and at any rate, it was highly unlikely that Cloud or anyone would be listening to them (but then again, Elena was loud enough to awaken even him from a hard - earned drunken stupor). He had to play along with it now. 

"Go! Go! Go!" Hopefully his shout would direct her attentions to the job at hand (and cut off any smart comments from her as well). His lips were fused to the bottle as he finished off the rest of the cold beer, and when that was done, he tilted his head backwards, upending the bottle, making sure that not a single drop went to waste. In his particular profession, he had to make every drink count; it would really suck if he were to die without wetting his whistle. Satisfied at last, Reno tossed the bottle to the side, holstering the pistol, grabbing his nightstick. With his free hand latched onto the window - sill, he vaulted out into the night, and his dark blue figure was instantly blotted out by the all - concealing shadows.

The redhead began to smile, his morale boosted significantly as the alcohol took effect. He was actually starting to look forward to fighting Avalanche again, and it would probably be, like the last few times they had met, a most animated and passionate little soiree involving some mild bloodshed and a wee little bit of carnage. It was always nice to complete some unfinished business. He would prove that the spirit of the Turks was burning within them again. They would complete the mission this time.

__

A/N: Well… thank you for waiting! It's been such a long time… school is really death on fanfiction. And if that's not enough, well, my exams are starting in 2 weeks' time. Hell. I wish I could save my progress on a memory card in case I start failing or something… I feel as if I'm gonna face Emerald Weapon with nothing but a Mop and one or two unmastered materia (nope, the Final Attack - Phoenix combi isn't available to me). 

At any rate, they're producing Advent Children! Cloud looks like Tidus on a crash diet, and Sephy… he looks kinda sad… a bit like Prince Arthas in Warcraft III. Sephiroth fangirls rejoice! But where, oh where, is our dearest flower girl? Come on, Nomura - san, give the Aeris fanboys something to cheer about! It seems that Cloud's still thinking about her… the sources say that he's been living alone, and you see him in the church looking around… makes you wonder what he did after the events in the Northern Crater, when he promised to go and look for her. But then again, even if Aerith appears… Square may leave it as a surprise… the official websites for KH never mentioned her at all… all the FF cameo characters were introduced save her… it took the people previewing the game to tell us about her… so I won't give up hoping yet. What do you think? It would have been nice if FFVII AC was a proper sequel, but something is better than nothing, I guess?

Do you remember the opening cutscene, where Aeris is seen walking away from a movie poster titled "Bloody Valentine" and "Loveless"? To me, that foreshadowed her eventual fate. But that's so sad, especially for a sweet girl like her. Why is Aerith such a lively and bubbly character on one hand, but becomes as glum as Vincent whenever she's left to herself? Yeah, it's my fault, I just like to portray her that way=). But Sephy has seen that side of her too… and he doesn't just view it as a potential weakness to exploit. "The big bad enemy doesn't seem so bad after all…" Forgive his ungentlemanliness. 

You remember those creepy scenes of Sephy in the Temple? He split himself up into multiple images, and each of them started waving the Masamune… I thought that the idea of Sephiroth gaining the ability to spirit - walk and project his essence around was a bit cool… it also allows him to view what our dear Ancient is doing without him being physically there. But what happened to his pet prejudices? I thought that he didn't really like spying or sneaking around? But he did enough of that in the game. More like, he basically silenced everyone who detected him. 

Sephiroth wasn't big, bad or strong when he was a kid… rather more like Squall was when he was growing up in the orphanage… dressed in a Charlie Brown shirt, waiting every day for Ellone to return. Leon grew up into an angsty and bitter young man with misanthropic tendencies because of his childhood (though the kids in the orphanage, with the exception of Seifer, weren't too bad a bunch). You would wonder what sort of person Sephy would have become had Ifalna and the Professor been there to bring him up. Edea did try to help Squall, but too bad she went mad…(As a side note, why is it that Rinoa is not a member of the orphanage gang? Why is that so significant? Is she the special person apart from the rest of them who is alone worthy enough for Squall?) 

Finally… the Turks remind me of the Japanese salaryman executives… devoted in their own little way to the job, their friends and to the company. They're like the yazuka dressed in Armani suits, yet with the savvy of Bond and the goofiness of Laguna. They're cool, but they just have the misfortune of fighting for the wrong side. We'll of course be seeing more of them soon. 

Well… there'll be some action in the next chapter… just wait for it to come up, okay? I know you'll be waiting eagerly… consider seriously setting an author alert setting for this story (if you actually think the wait is worth itg) but now, please excuse me… I must go and prepare for my boss fight… grr. 

You know the drill, this is, well, a reply segment where I try to answer your questions and comments (and especially your praises!

__

To Homunculus:

Hey, hope you don't get offended by the way Sephy treated the flower! I had that idea long before I saw the pix of Aerith with the flower! He hasn't quite learned to appreciate the significance of such a gift yet (he's a klutz when it comes to romantic stuff). Oh, and your drawing of Agrarias looked quite cool too. Man, I barely missed being visitor no. 1234 by a few numbers! Good luck with your classes.

__

To Starling94:

Hey, let's see more of Aeris soon! What will Squall think when he finds out that his dad is a Turk! Can't wait to see the next chapter of A Plot Between Worlds… be nice to your dad and mom… and be nice to your com… But I'm sure you'll get it done, no matter what happens. 

__

To Phantom Kensai:

Ah yes, the Japanese way of expressing love. I'm trying to keep to it, but it's hard, especially since I'm more familiar with the western style. Squaresoft was trying to drop hints all over the place about who Cloud really liked, but they never said it overtly, so the matter was still left open in a sense… I donno, maybe AC will resolve it once and for all… let's see if they borrow any more ideas from Tales of Phantasia.

__

To Silvawolf:

Yes, your foresight and prudence in putting this story in "faves" has paid off! Does the story actually make heavy reading? Well, just go slowly and enjoy it! 

__

To Starfall4790():

You know why Sephy didn't show up in the previous chapter? The chibi - aeriths in my house wanted me to give their big sister a lot more airtime! I would love to speak more about the Avalanche crew, but this is primarily a romance story between our two fave characters, and Avalanche is a darned big group to be writing about. You'll see some of them come and go and return as the story unfolds (still simmering within my overburdened head). 

__

To LewsTherinInsanity:

Your command is my wish. Enjoy. Be patient for the next chapter, for the reasons given above=).

__

To Manga - Lunatic:

Hey… thanks. I find myself better able to communicate to others in writing, and only then, when I have fleeting flashes of inspiration. You should hear me speak… I have the conversational skills of Donald Duck! I restrict my words to "Hi", "Bye" and monosyllables. I'm sure you'll do better than me, just keep on going.

__

To Setsuna():

This romance is very slow - going… but necessarily so, since they're, erm, enemies. But this is chapter 14, and the main part of the story hasn't started yet, so I'm wondering whether I'm doing it too slowly! Wish me luck… I am still trying to strike a balance between the cheerful and angsty Aerith.

__

To the Constructicons:

Hey, why don't you guys take a break and unmerge… surely this chapter has more energon fuel for thought this time!

__

To Quincy007:

There is one simple answer why Sephy's like that… he's mad. And as for Aerith… it's a bit hard for someone who's had a terrible childhood to be always lively and vivacious, but she tries hard, too hard I think. The line is blurred between "faked" happiness and real happiness, and so we would have to ask the question as to when she is actually enjoying herself. She has her reasons for acting like that… but none of her friends have actually realised what is happening… But don't consider your character analysis amateur, you hit the nail very well I think! Keep on reviewing!

__

To Code-Wyze:

My style is merely descriptive. While I prefer to set everything down to the last detail, the true masters set out the broad parameters, dropping hints here and there, and leaving the reader to imagine the world for himself, letting him come to his own conclusions and draw his own inferences. But heck, that's my way of doing things, so I'm glad everyone approves of it. 

Tifa and Cloud do have a role to play as good supporting characters, but your suggestion is quite interesting. What would they think? 

__

To Falling Rain:

Whoa… almost missed out your name! I'm getting too many reviews! Cait Sith wasn't too bad, he was just a good guy trying to survive in a bad company, but some of his teammates find it hard to forget his treachery. I think Squaresoft erred when they gave him only 2 limits. It's a bit hard trying to balance things out with 8 or 9 characters. For me, I chose Cloud, Aerith and Tifa exclusively, and from disc 2 onwards, Barret. 

__

To Dark Ha Des:

Given that Yuffie is a materia thief, I believed that she'd definitely get a crack at the White Materia. It's another matter whether you can use the Black Materia… as Aerith said, you need great spiritual strength to utilise its powers. I'm trying to keep everyone in character, but it's hard… especially what you want the character to do is potentially OOC, must find a way to keep their actions within the general framework of their personalities. 

Why did Vincent blink? He knows about Aerith's purpose in returning to this world, and he's probably sussed out what's going on. He is the typical guy who knows and understands more than what he lets on - you have to ask him before he'll share it with you. 

__

To Crow T R0bot:

Lucky you! I knew I was taking too long when your second review came! Maybe I'll read Transcending Reality, if I get the time to do so. Hey, good luck with your crossover. You should be able to do it, especially since you have a good knowledge of the subject matter. 

Darned formatting problems - ff.net isn't perfect. Even MS word gives me probs. I also have spacing problems. Skip one line, I get half an inch of space. Skip the next, and you get two. Try saving the file as HTML. Don't worry though. It's what's in the story that matters, not what it looks like. I'll see what I can do. I hate computers.

I live in Singapore - the former Indonesian president Habibie likened my country (it's about 65 km in length) to a "little red dot". But it's quite a significant red dot, since it appears in almost every world map and globe. 


	15. Chapter 15: Novus Actus Interveniens

****

OF A PURE HEART, A FALLEN KNIGHT AND THE ONE – WINGED ANGELS

__

----------------------------------------- Disclaimer: ------------------------------------------

To the Reader and the Lawyers:

Final Fantasy VII, and all the characters, including Aeris and Sephiroth, Cloud, Tifa, Barret, Vincent, Yuffie, Red, Cid, Cait Sith (Reeve), Ifalna, Professor Gast, Lucrecia, Professor Hojo Frankenstein, Jenova the Mad, Rufus Schizoprenoid, Don Corneo the Horny, Reno, the Rude gentleman and Elena the Teller of Secrets (any anyone I may have inadvertently missed out, knowingly, willfully or otherwise) are property of Square Enix Co, formerly Squaresoft LLC. 

Tell me if my disclaimer ain't good enough. I will reward you with a few thousand Chibi - Vincents depressed to the nadir with Tranqulisers, and they shall cause a wet blanket to hang over your house and generally expose you to the… darker side of your nature (You know how angsty Vincent can be from the fanfics here, so I'm taking this concept one step further… a Chibi - Vincent would probably behave in the same fashion). Otherwise, wait until I complete my 3rd or 4th year, okay???

****

To other Fanfic Writers (This is more important!) Plagiarism Note:

There are a lot of Aeriseph fanfics around here. I've tried my best to stay as original as possible, but it's a bit hard to write this type of story without treading on someone's toes by accident along the line. Please, if you feel that I may have 'borrowed' some of your concepts or ideas by mistake, notify me immediately. **Email** a "cease and desist" message to me, point out where I have gone wrong, and I will act immediately to remove or modify the offending section(s). 

Thank you very, very much for your understanding and tolerance. 

Yuffie: Hey, isn't that a Tonberry coming up over there? No? It's not? Erm, I could have sworn it was there just now! Oh well, maybe you'll see him again! Hey, I'll help you look for him! Don't worry, it's free! (Skips away, making merry jingling noises. You feel as if a heavy weight has been literally taken off you.)

_NOVUS ACTUS INTERVENIENS_

Climbing gingerly out of the deep November night, all Reno wished to do now was to get to someplace warmer as soon as he got his revenge. Even though his suit was an example of exceptional tailoring, thick enough to withstand the chilling cruelties of Mount Gaia, even though he had tanked up with enough booze to set himself sweating, it was all he could do to keep from rubbing his freezing hands together and giving the game away like his blond colleague. He turned to inspect the grappling hook embedded in the wood of the windowsill before setting down his rope coil, leaving the triangular metal grip at the end in plain sight. Confident that his escape route was secure, and that his unsuspecting quarry remained motionless, he scanned the room briefly. 

His shoulders rippled up and down like the demented old Professor everyone hated. The wallpaper, a cheery pink by day, was now an impenetrable inky purple, giving him the impression that he wasn't looking at a wall, but into the void of deep space itself. The little light that drifted in from the distant street lamps had cut out strange patterns on the floor, using the frilly lace curtains as some sort of stencil… and to Reno, they appeared as several lithe, thin - limbed, feelered creatures he had never seen before. The curtains were moving with the wind, the shapes began to move, and those strange forms began to circle around him, executing acrobatic moves no natural person could ever hope to perform… And the sleeper… she had become a black, nebulous mass hiding in a corner, ready to spring upon him once he lowered his nightstick…

He spat out a curse under his breath. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea after all to have finished the brandy. This was ridiculous! He was literally jumping at shadows! Even Elena wasn't afraid of such little things (except for the occasional oglop ambushing her in the shower). But still, he could feel the hairs on his back beginning to stand, and an experienced spy always trusted his sixth sense. He would take no chances, no matter how remote they were. 

Holding out his nightstick like a sword, he crept towards his mission objective, and was pleasantly relieved to see the shadows dissipate even as the passing minutes sharpened his night vision. Thank goodness it wasn't the alcohol that was making him act like a fool. Now he could see the girl, sleeping like a baby, curled up around her pillow in a foetal position, the eiderdown drawn up to her shoulders. Still she slumbered, unaware of the big bad wolf that was preparing for the kill. Now this was really too easy. Soon she would be in his grasp. 

Her eyes suddenly snapped open, and he could hear the sharp wheeze of hastily drawn breath as the flower girl was suddenly startled into wakefulness. Now that was surprising… she wasn't really supposed to wake up that soon! But it didn't matter now. He was in the dominant position. 

"Rise and shine, my precious," The assassin fitted his nightstick below her chin, raising up her head with his weapon, pinching her cheek with his free hand even as she turned to face him. 

"What _are _you doing here, Reno?" Aeris gave him only the slightest frown, and her lips remained parted as her attention was now fully fixed upon him. Whether dead, alive, or undead, she was certainly the same as ever. No screaming, no flinching, no crying. However, the young florist was still as naïve as ever. She hadn't read the _Midgar Shimbun _lately, otherwise she would have known that Shinra hadn't exactly been liquidated yet. She didn't even know how serious her situation was. The girl had absolutely no idea why he was here, and was just waiting patiently for an explanation. Well, he would fill her in, if only to tease her a little bit.

"Why, we're taking a chick like you out of this dump, to a better place where a real hunk like me will keep you company! Isn't that good enough for you?" To reassure her, he gave her one of his crooked smiles, always guaranteed to make a girl melt in his arms. Tragically, his magnanimous gesture was totally ignored as her frown deepened further, her eyes looking downwards as she began to rack her little brains. 

"… You're trying to kidnap me again, Reno, but why? Unless you're still working for Shinra…" She stiffened, and he could feel his nightstick shifting up and down as the Ancient swallowed a sudden lump. It could have been a trick of the half - light, but he thought he saw her large eyes darting here and there. 

"When you were dead, the world changed. But then we're still around, only a little leaner and meaner. Don't cry, Dr Deathjester is still dead, so he won't be able to outrage your precious little modesty this time. But since you were nice enough to sell me that flower, I'll personally make sure nothing will happen to you like the last time round… just come quietly with me."

From beyond the closed door he could now hear the sounds of clashing steel and muffled curses. His men were in the right position now. But he obviously didn't have all the time in the world to "persuade" her to join him. 

"I'm afraid your precious bodyguard isn't available to help you right now… why not come with me instead, my pretty Ancient… Anyway, I'm more faithful than he is… C'mon, why don't you elope with me!" He grabbed her arm, yanking her none too gently towards himself. 

"Eaygh!" She couldn't maintain her composure any longer. All his airs vanished instantly as he found himself suddenly stumbling backward from a little foot that had fortuitously caught him right in the breadbasket. 

"Hey, that's no way to treat a gentleman!" the redhead protested, rubbing his tender abdomen (how much of the damage was caused by his drinking bouts?). Aeris had not wasted any time in flinging off the covers, and now she was rushing to get to her rod, which lay gleaming in one corner of her bedroom. The girl simply didn't want to play. Oh well, so much for even _trying_ to be a nice guy.

His nightstick, his sweet and ever submissive lady of pain, cackled with glee as it spewed forth a burst of man - made lightning. He was rewarded with the shrillest of shrieks from the Cetra as the bolt struck her square in the back. Just in time too, as she'd just closed one hand over the Princess Guard. He heard a dull thud as she collapsed, and her limbs spasmed uncontrollably as the electric charge wreaked havoc with her nervous system. The Turk was with her in a second, calmly taking the staff from her jerking hand, tossing it away like a useless wooden pole. 

"Tsk, tsk, a sweet little lass like you really shouldn't be using such a dangerous toy, you know," he advised her, lifting up the light flower merchant, "You should leave the fighting to the professionals… unless you like _that _kind of fun." 

The effects of the stun blast were starting to wear off, and Aeris was beginning to struggle weakly against his dominance, and now she was kicking as effectively as a unborn baby, trying to dislodge his grip, and her hands came tearing at his face. Too bad she wasn't terribly successful. Her nails were short and neatly trimmed, and they didn't do a thing except making him want to chuckle a bit, not at all like Elena's claws, longer and sharper than a katal. He simply ignored all her pitiful attempts to break free, slinging her over his shoulder as if she was but one of his prized possessions. Heck, she hadn't done any damage at all, but at least she wasn't a dead fish. 

"Temper, temper, dear, you're actually behaving like a spoilt little brat! Now don't make me angry!"

But there were more threatening things out there than some attempted rough play by a well - kept girl barely out of adolescence. There was someone behind him - his bump of trouble had saved him once again. He jerked sharply to the side, right in the nick of time to see a large luminescent sword sweeping at him. His nightstick came up by reflex to ward off the blow, and with the clang of contact still ringing in his ears, he found his hand twisted inwards, his weapon pointed towards himself, his legs struggling to find a foothold in the empty air. He had parried the blow, but the sheer force of Cloud's attack had still managed to throw him off balance. By some dint of good fortune, he was able to hold onto both his ladies as he fell heavily to one knee. He wouldn't mock that Ultima Weapon as merely being something girlish again! It was a good thing that the flower seller was still in his hands, otherwise the mercenary would have struck him with the edge of the blade. That sword swing had enough power in it to slice through his rod _and _chop him into half at the same time.

"You haven't changed a single bit, Reno… you're still trying to be the big bully after all. I should have known you wouldn't keep your promise! You snake!" the Avalanche leader growled, his eyes flashing in the dark. 

The salaryman merely grinned. "Sad, is it? But the pleasant truth is that I'm not doing anything treacherous this time! I've checked with my lawyers, and they say that I can safely go back on my word now, since the circumstances under which I gave my promise are no longer in force. I only have to give you… reasonable notice, or some crap like that… I know all this is very hard going on a buffoon like you, but I'm sure you've got enough brains left over from your salad days at Mideel to understand that our truce is over." No sooner had he spoken did he trigger off a full - powered blast at Cloud, only to see the electrical charge fizzle out pathetically like a children's sparkler, stopped by the magical material of the sword. 

The pink and purple weapon coloured the air in front of Reno as the mercenary pushed him back step by step with broad and heavy sweeps of the blade. He dodged and ducked as best as he could, but having to carry this feisty young lady was making him as graceful as a lame chocobo. The wall was coming closer to his back, and then the swordsman would easily pin him down. Cloud was giving him a rather hard choice. He could either try to waddle away and get poleaxed the moment his back was turned, or he could give up the girl and run. 

He came to a decision instantly. Discretion always came before valour; one of the most important unwritten rules of his secret service was that it was no point sacrificing yourself to get the job done. When the company ordered you to complete a mission, you would finish it, but you would never go above and beyond the call of duty unless you had a finger in the pie yourself. The Turks were the ones who would always live to brag about their exploits in the bar, not those dead fools who turned into money - spinners for someone trying to get supper. Besides, it wasn't as if this was his only chance to net the girl.

"Hey, don't sweat it! Since you're so crazy about her, you can take her back… for now! Look after her till I return, OK?" Without further ado, he pitched the girl forward with whatever remaining finesse he could muster. And once again Aeris found herself cradled in the arms of her former lover. It was another close call for the flower lady - Cloud had but a split second to lower his sword before she fell upon it. The leader of the Turks chuckled at the touching scene in front of him, before grabbing his line and making good his escape, vaulting right back into the blackness.

Cloud did not immediately pursue the fleeing Shinra spy, but instead kept his eyes on the girl, looking her over for any injuries. When he was at last convinced that Reno had done her no harm, he sat her down gently, letting go only when she had regained her footing. 

"Thanks, Cloud…" The words simply tumbled out of her, and she was smiling before she knew what she was doing. This was just like old times. He was her bodyguard, sworn to keep her safe. She had longed to be held by his strong and certain hands. This used to feel so nice… she used to feel so good. But now she felt numb and hollow, like a dead thing trying with phantom hands to hold onto what had disappeared long ago, that which had once driven its passions. 

The ex - SOLDIER paused, closing his eyes, scratching his head, his hands moving up and down his sword hilt. "… It's all right." Without another word, he turned to the door, raising his blade. Through the open door, the flash and crack of man - made thunder broke the brief stillness, and the scream of a man could be heard. "We have to go now... No telling how long the others can hold out!" 

Aeris nodded, retrieving her rod, grabbing her bracelets from the dressing table, hitching up the skirts of her nightgown as she scurried after him. As she ran, several thick chestnut locks were blown forward, spilling all over her hands, getting stuck in her armlets, blocking out her vision. The Cetra girl blinked, shaking her head. There was no way she could fight with her hair in the way, but she had obviously no time to find her ribbon and tie her usual braid. She reached for the curtains, pulling away the long thin strip of cloth used for binding the thick material together, quickly tying her hair back into a rough ponytail. That would have to do for the moment. 

No sooner had she caught up with Cloud did he push her to the floor. They were greeted by a glittering starburst of glass fragments as the hall windows shattered open with tremendous force. Several Shinra troopers flew in, smashing open the parquet floor with a loud crack. These men were armed, armoured and dressed like Cloud, but their uniforms were a vivid red, and they wore heavy visored helmets that completely concealed their faces. A bald man was the last to step in. Casually brushing away the assorted dust and wood debris from his blue suit, he pulled off his dark glasses, keeping it carefully in his jacket. His fists tightened, and from his gloved hands several spikes emerged, each seeming to vibrate slowly with hidden energy. He did not move, but regarded the two former lovers with narrowed, beady eyes, still invisible in the dark even without his shades. 

"Rude…" Cloud identified the heavy - set leader of the band of SOLDIERS, "Still with Shinra I see… that's really too bad for you."

"………." He was never one to waste words before a fight. He nodded, and the members of the enemy party fanned out quickly, trapping their targets within a large semicircular formation. Now they stepped forward, drawing the net tighter each step they came closer towards commencing the combat. 

Cloud didn't want to wait for the pleasantries, so he just ran up to the first available SOLDIER, the Ultima Weapon trained for the head. The masked man parried quickly, but he could not be prepared for the speed at which the spiky - haired fighter disengaged, spinning around to deal a quick slash to the midsection. That blow too was stopped with the greatest haste, but before the red - clad trooper could raise his weapon back into a guarding position, the rebel leader had sprung off his feet, and the last thing the man saw was the iridescent sword slicing through his neck, going straight down, cutting his life into two…

Two more Shinra SOLDIERS stepped in quickly, undaunted by their comrade's death. Unlike their dead friend, they were more prepared to face Cloud's hard and fast moves, and while one charged towards the mercenary, the other right behind him, blade held high, prepared to cut in once battle was joined between the two. This particular attack strategy had been drilled into him during his training at Shinra, and he shuffled aside instantly. The first warrior shot past him, and he took the chance to attempt a quick slash to his adversary's unprotected back, but found the cold air as the SOLDIER was already on the floor, rolling out of harm's way. The opportunity missed, he spun around on the balls of his feet, his sword meeting the second attacker's quick strike that was aimed at _his _back. These were no simple blue - shirt, faceless guards. From the cut and colour of their uniforms, those men could only be 1st Class SOLDIERS, the crème de la crème of the Shinra forces. They were excellent fighters on their own, but as a team they were formidable, for the Shinra regimen focused almost exclusively on training their men to fight in groups rather than as individual fighters.

Again Cloud found himself in the air, heels meeting his hips, this time to avoid the low - level swipe which would have taken away his legs at the knee, and immediately he held his blade horizontally at arm's length, warding off two stabbing sword points that skittered harmlessly off the translucent sword, not leaving a single scratch on the unearthly white metal. A third SOLDIER had joined the combat. He uttered an oath under his breath, cursing his stupidity for letting his mind sleep during the battle. This was no more than a petty diversion. Wasn't his unlucky friend the real target of this attack? Risking a moment of inattention to look over his shoulder, he was Rude and the remaining SOLDIER coming after her one at a time, and each time their blows were quickly blocked by the butterfly - headed weapon she wielded, but he was close enough to see her face gleaming slightly already, even though the combat had only just begun. The Turk and his underling weren't performing any fancy moves, but their attacks were swift and their strategy was clear. They were simply biding their time. She could not hold her own against them forever. He had to aid her quickly.

Her rod lay still in the air and she clasped her small hands over her chest, summoning her magic with the telltale bright green circle brightening her features. Everything around him once again flickered white, a sliver of silver - blue radiance miraculously shooting down from the rafters, coming straight for him… 

His hands reached to cover his ears, for it sounded as if a bomb had just gone off where he stood. The ground shivered and the tiles buckled, causing a small cloud of powdered wood to rise up around him. From behind him came the dull impact of a body hitting the floor, and he wheeled around by instinct to look at what had happened, shuddering at the sight before him. One of the SOLDIERS lay groaning, steam pouring out of his armour, the exposed parts of his body reddened by the heat. The sword gripped in his twitching hands still scraped the ground, still vainly attempting to kill the person he should have stabbed in the back. He turned away from the man who had almost killed him, raising his blade to thank his alert companion. The ponytailed girl smiled back, but this was only so fleeting, as Rude was now making another lunge at her. Ignoring the heady mixture of ozone and the moans of the downed SOLDIER, he returned to face his remaining assailants, eager to finish the fight quickly. 

He hadn't seen all that was wonderful in this battle however, and now what could only be described as a ring of golden clocks began to revolve around him, each timepiece changing shape with every pass, the hands on the timepieces spinning faster and faster. Soon they had resolved themselves into large yellow octagons, and the hands on the clocks were spinning as fast as propeller blades. Now he was hurtling towards the enemy, clouds of heated smoke marking the ground he had just covered. The crash of colliding bodies brought both to the floor, but if one were only to blink, he would have missed seeing the warrior the power company rejected return to his feet, coming on top of the 1st Class. What little light there was in the hall was kept in constant motion, trailing the sweeps of his sword, seemingly too slow to keep up with his movements. However, the SOLDIER still managed to block those maddeningly fast attacks, his steel coming up at just the right place at the right time so many times. He only had to wait for the Haste spell to wear off. The Ultima sword now began to descend slowly, at so much less speed than before. He immediately took the advantage to knock aside the sword swipe springing to his feet. But no sooner had he gotten to his feet did Cloud outrun the light again, and he had no time to even see the outsized blade outrun the light, shooting through his chest, flying out of his back with the force of a two - handed thrust. 

He had to return to the flower lady now. She had helped him greatly in dispatching those who were attacking him, but was she protecting herself? The floor where she was standing was splattered with little round droplets, some salty, some sour, falling from her chin, dripping slowly from a torn and wet green sleeve. His jaw stiffened as he was reminded of why he had fought so hard against his former employers. The Shinra attackers had been ordered to capture her alive, and they would achieve that objective by any means possible, even if it involved beating their victim into complete submission. To destroy a group of six individuals, the electric power company had no qualms about bringing the roof down on millions of innocent people who were merely going about their daily lives, not even knowing what they done to anger the giant firm. Their ruthless, single - minded work ethics disgusted him. 

The mailed fist, still gleaming with the blood it had drawn, flew once more towards the white mage, her beautiful face its target, backed with enough speed and strength to send her fading into unconsciousness. Even with all his enhanced speed, he stood stuck to the spot, for he could see that the Princess Guard would not be raised in time to protect its wielder, as fatigue and injury conspired to make her arms too heavy to respond to this new attack. 

But that knockout blow would never hit her at all. The pink jewel in Cloud's bracelet, long cherished and polished, but fallen into disuse after his days as a bodyguard were over, began to rekindle once more, and instantly he appeared in front of Aeris, sword held out in front of him at arm's length in a classic defensive posture, one hand firmly on the handle, the other hand pressed against the large blade, supporting it against the oncoming impact. 

The Ultima Weapon was of course made of sterner stuff than Rude's fighting glove, and the vibrating killer spikes whined piteously as they could find no purchase on the unearthly silver metal forged by none other than the Planet herself. The spiny studs could not last against such an unyielding surface, and now they snapped, torn apart by the force of friction, and the fragments sprang away from the scene, embedding themselves deeply past the wallpaper and into the blue stones that made up the house. The silent Turk merely pulled back his arm, watching the smoke wisps rise from his damaged gauntlet with no change in expression. 

"Tifa and the others are waiting for us. We've got to get to them quick!" Strapping the sword to his back, he stretched out his fists to release a quick Fire spell. His enemies fell back, suddenly finding themselves blanketed completely in a roiling, sootless yellow flame as the Mako energy around them spontaneously combusted. The mage fire he had conjured wouldn't hurt them badly, as SOLDIER uniforms were flame resistant, but this would disorient them long enough to allow him and Aeris to run to someplace safer. It might have been possible to stop them with a Firaga spell, but he would risk burning the house down instead, and Barret would probably make him do the chaingun cha - cha once this was over.

"Come on!" With his sword, he pointed to the one safe place in the whole house where everyone had holed up in… the bathroom, from which Barret and Tifa were waving frantically, waiting anxiously for them to arrive. The two of them turned and ran, as fast as they could, towards the water closet. And it was fortunate for them that they made use of the momentary discomfiture of Rude and his men, as the mashing, careless tread of combat boots right behind them signaled all too clearly that enemy reinforcements had arrived.

"Oh, you're kind of you to wait for me. But why play hard to get, darling?" Reno assumed a falsetto voice, mockingly imitating the pathetic pleading of a lovesick man in the soap operas that were still running on TV channels throughout the Planet. "Let's go get them!" Of course, he had to revert to a more authoritative timbre while commanding his men. 

By now they had reached the toilet. Several SOLDIERs were stationed around the small room, having driven out Tifa and the others from their bedrooms earlier, but they conveniently dispersed the moment they saw Cloud and Aeris coming. Rather than be caught between the two rebel parties, it would be far more advantageous to let the all the members of Avalanche gather together in one enclosed space, where they could be easily surrounded and apprehended in one fell swoop. Several seconds were wasted as the two newcomers tried to squeeze through the doorway. They could not accomplish this, however, without a muffled "Ow!" from Cloud's spouse as her toes were stepped on, and some grunting and growling and cursing from the big swarthy man as he did some fancy maneuvering to allow them to pass. All that was needed now was for Cait to appear and crack an inappropriate joke over his megaphone. 

Now that everyone was inside, Barret returned to his place at the threshold, his body pressed against the open door, presenting as small a target profile as possible, blasting off several rounds to slow down the rampaging SOLDIERs, while Tifa and Cloud stood at his side, ready to cut down anyone who came close. Aeris did not resume the fight at this moment, but rubbed away the sweat from her eyes, trying to forget about the pulses of pain coming from the deep cut on her arm, focusing her efforts on searching that cramped little sanctuary for her loved ones. 

"Mom? Are you here? Marlene?" Aeris called out in between large gulps for air, From the bathtub peeked out a little girl's face, still grinning despite the grim situation they were facing. Elmyra also got up, and for the first time in her two lives did the Ancient see her foster mother in a disheveled state. She had somehow managed to tie her usual bun, yet the long pin that kept everything in place was set at an awkward angle, and many stray strands of hair fell here and there. Compared to Marlene, who was beaming with hope now that the flower lady had come, her face was pasty, and she was wringing her hands helplessly.

"Aeris! What in heaven's name is going on?" the old lady shrieked, covering her ears as Barret showered their attackers with more steel, wincing as some spent brass bullet casings fell clattering into the painted metal tub. "Oh, what have they done? They've hurt you!"

"The Turks are back… and they're after me again," her daughter replied, looking away. Once more she was in trouble, and she was making her family, her friends, and everyone sink to the bottom with her yet again. How could she possibly make up to them? No apology, no smiling reassurances could bear enough weight to ease the blows she had dealt to them. 

"Those hooligans! Will they never leave a poor old lady alone?" But Elmyra saw that her child was hanging her head loosely, her rod lowered, the headpiece already touching the ground. Aeris suddenly found the dame holding her tight around the waist with a strength not known since her younger days, "Oh, look at you, Aeris. You've always been such a brave girl. Don't you give up now, you have to help us. I'm too afraid, and I'm too old for all this. I can't do a thing, but you're strong. Show those horrible hooligans that we'll never let them walk over us!"

"Aerith… yoo and Dad will chase the bad guys away, won't yoo?" Marlene chipped in, ever so confident, her grin ever so bright. 

The young woman now stood up straight, her face now firm and composed, her eyes now clear and free of mist. They knew that it was her fault that all this was happening to them, yet they didn't blame her at all. They were all in this together with her, and they only wanted her to help them end these nightmares terrifying them. And there was only one way to repay such absolute trust and reliance in her. 

She swallowed before she spoke again. "Yes, I'll be strong. Mom, Marlene, trust me now, I'll try to put them right for you. Just lie low, and wait for me." 

Hugging each of them in turn, she watched as her mother and her little friend returned to the dubious shelter of the tub before she turned to face the battle outside, which had amazingly not intensified during the time she had been beating upon her brow. In fact, (apart from a few random blasts from Reno's nightstick), no one had challenged their position. But the SOLDIERs were regrouping, and an attack would surely come soon. 

"Can you get Cid and the others?" Cloud yelled above the din of another salvo of automatic fire. 

"No friggin' luck! The @$(!& line's dead!" The big man snarled, tossing the useless PHS to the floor, while his companion could only nod grimly. The rest of their team were sleeping tightly in Reeve's house at the other end of town, and would likely remain so, as the Turks had cut off their communications. When he was still working for Shinra, he had been sent several times to hunt down to the Midgar slums to hunt down and destroy the various resistance groups operating in the great undercity. Every time they assaulted a suspected hideout, his team would use powerful jamming devices to prevent the rebels from calling for help or informing their fellow members that they were under attack. They were effectively on their own. 

And with a company battle cry that had not been heard for many months, the SOLDIERs thundered out of the smoke, while Rude and Reno simply stayed in the back row, sauntering towards the tiny bathroom. At last Barret had a clear shot, and from right to left and back he directed his fire. While his chaingun was not as accurate as Vincent's Death Penalty, he was certainly close enough not to worry about the shortcomings of his weapon, and he scored a hit on every last SOLDIER. But none of their enemies went down; each man was surrounded by a glowing white disk of power as he was struck, which absorbed much of the harmful kinetic energy that would have been imparted to his body by the force of the flying bullets, leaving him with nothing save a bad bruise or a graze at worst. Cool blue hailstorm shards began to form in the air as it was suddenly forced below freezing point. Directed by the power of the materia, the ice shards, as beautiful and as sharp as the diamonds they resembled, pelted the Shinra troopers as a deadly solid rain. And when the rain stopped, the air froze again, blanketing the masked men in its chilling touch before the layer of frost covering them snapped away in glittering droplets of heavy water. But this attack was thwarted too, as now an umbrella of rainbow - coloured energy field came up to protect the SOLDIERs, and they emerged with only superficial injuries. That was the reason why the enemy had not attacked; they had wisely spent their time casting Barriers and Mbarriers to protect themselves. Tifa made a sour face as her mana went to waste, consumed by the magical shields, but she did not have long to dwell upon it as the masked men were almost upon them!

It was time for the spills and thrills of melee combat. Cloud, Tifa and Barret stood together now, a warrior threesome who had fought together ever since the days when they were still conducting hit - and - run sabotage missions against the Shinra Mako reactors. Aeris was right behind them, stationed in the back row. Being a survivor of the Cetra, she was naturally gifted in the art of spellcasting, and her unique talents soon made her become the unofficial healer of the party. As Avalanche's quest to save the Planet became more and more dangerous, and with every second or third encounter leaving someone in dire need of healing, even the most highly skilled members of the group felt the loss of her skills most acutely. But now it was just like old times; as the white mage was here to cover them again, the former freedom fighters now fought with more regard to dispatching their enemies, reassured that she'd be there to tend to them if they went down. 

With two SOLDIERs for each member of the trio, there was plenty of fighting to be done. There was little space for precise swordplay, but the enemy didn't have to bother about it, as the Ancient was the only one they needed alive, and even then, keeping her "alive" in the most general of terms was sufficient, and the air soon came alive with the whistling of swings and swipes and the sharp clang of steel catching on steel. But Avalanche (at least, those who were still around) held the line, meeting the battering assault head - on. The one - armed miner used his prosthetic gun as a large steel shield, using it to block the incoming swings and swipes, while Cloud's Ultima Weapon, almost as broad as the bole of a tree, was able to block every blow coming his way in such close quarters. For Tifa, being the most lightly armed group member, her primary means of attack also doubled up as her best means of defence. Directing her strength into her extremities, each punch and kick was strong enough to keep the opposing blades at bay, and forceful enough to knock their wielders back. 

Now that they had weathered the initial enemy attack, it was time for Avalanche to fight back. Just as if he were equipped with a shield, Barret's gun - arm soon drew double duty as a dispenser of blunt trauma as he swung it with a speed totally incongruous with a man of his size and girth, sending Shinra blades awry, knocking stray chips out of their prized polished weapons. Applying the skills diligently learned over many years, the martial artist drew upon her internal strength, using the Mako energy that dwelt within every living being to allow her to overcome her body's limits, launching a furious flurry of blows, faster than sleight of hand, too many for the fastest man with the sword to block. Power was sacrificed for speed, but her relentless attacks would wear down the SOLDIER, and when the shield eventually dissipated, she would be in an excellent position to land a knockout punch. To the untrained eye, Tifa's boxing fists could only be seen as a set of reddish shadows flitting in and out, here and there, her adversary flinching from some unknown and almost invisible threat. And to Aeris fell the task of disabling the magical barriers protecting each SOLDIER, otherwise the process of defeating the Shinra forces would have been nothing short of agonising. They could not be permanently on the offensive.

The Destruct materia powered up, and Barret shook his fist in triumph as the semitransparent shields on all their adversaries shattered. Now he could take a more direct approach instead of making a pendulum out of his arm. With a cry, he sent a heavy stream of fire from the Missing Score at the Shinra trooper, and at point - blank range, the flying lead slugs tore the sword from the man's hand, hewing away large chunks from the SOLDIER's hardened ceramic breastplate. He followed up his rash rampage with a sharp jab to the groin backed up by eighty pounds of gunmetal, leaving the unfortunate 1st Class reflexively clutching his family jewels. That was not enough to kill his enemy, but the big man had learned much about the power company's elite guards from Cloud and Vincent, and now he trained his weapon at the most vulnerable point in the SOLDIER's armour - the perspex face shield - and fired away. Aeris turned away from the dying man before she could see the brains blowing out through his shattered visor. She'd seen her share of blood and gore and gruesome death long before she'd joined Cloud and his team, but she still she could not get used to the horrors of battle. 

That was perhaps what saved Barret's life, as she saw the dead SOLDIER's partner sneaking up behind the dark - skinned rebel, his approach masked by the rattling report of small arms fire, his broadsword held high and diagonally in the style of the executioner. "Look out, Barret!" she cried, and the big man abruptly made an about - face at the very last second to see the large blade slicing through the air like an impromptu guillotine blade, seeking to sever the head from his shoulders. His hastily raised gun - arm immediately met the killing stroke, but the force behind that swing was powerful enough to decapitate a man, and he was only able to deflect the deathblow, but not block it altogether. The falling sword, its purpose defeated but not deterred, continued on its path to ruin, cracking the collarbone, scoring the ribs before striking the floor, peppering the two fighters with more sharp wooden splinters. 

Barret reeled backwards, bellowing hoarsely from the pain of his broken bones, but the Cetra mage was not going to let him cry out any longer. Letting go of the Princess Guard, closing her eyes, she began to call forth the power of the Curaga spell to close his wounds… but what about the pain she was suffering now? The deep cut she had received had been rather muted in its pleas for aid, and she had shunted her own problems aside, focusing on aiding her friends. But now, she could feel once again the cold, objective, unfeeling steel piercing her side, splitting apart the skin, cutting away the flesh, and in its wake, the fire of white - hot agony erupted as her dying cells cried for the last time. Her bloody arm, its troubles long repressed, took the chance to vent its grievances. Twice a sword had passed through her, and the unhappy memories began to manifest themselves again in physical form, and she could feel with unfailing clarity the merciless torture she had gone through. Her consciousness was consumed by the monster that mercilessly dominated all of her senses, and now she knew nothing but the pain, the pain, and more pain! She lost control of the spell… and she screamed. 

"Aeris!" With the cold awareness that occasionally enlightened the mind of a warrior in the middle of a passionate battle, Tifa instantly pieced together what had happened to her friend and former rival. The SOLDIER who had nearly chopped off Barret's head had decided to take his chances, surging in towards his objective, and with a quick slash he had weakened the flower girl, and as she fell in the throes of agony, he would steal her away for the glory of his organisation. Lest he succeed in his intentions, she would prevent it! Leaping away from her opponents, sailing through the air with the _qinggong _skill (which she had wheedled out of Yuffie at the price of all of her best materia) towards the attacking Shinra trooper, and in mid - air, her leg raised, her foot straightened for a flying kick. With an artist's precision, she struck Aeris' assailant in just the right spot - while Barret had merely chosen a spot where the SOLDIER's armour was thinnest, she had aimed for the base of the neck, at the joint between the helmet and the breastplate, where there was absolutely no protection at all. Like her friend, she was clad only in her pyjamas, not having enough time to get herself outfitted for combat, but she was well trained, and her bare feet would be just as deadly as a hit from the steel - toed, mine - resistant combat boots the Shinra troops wore. Like a dog crushing a bone (except that it was several times louder), the crunch of a splintering spine crackled through the whole hall, and the hunter had become the prey in one split second. 

But they had forgotten about the Turks! It was Tifa's turn to cry out as another of Reno's lightning bolts floored her, causing her to fall on top of the 1st Class she'd disposed of. At once the redhead closed in for the kill, but no decisive, full - powered blast from his nightstick came. Instead, his long - itching hand flickered out … and one of the greatest mysteries that had dogged him ever since they'd been assigned to take out Avalanche was definitively solved. 

"Ooh, soft! Check it out Rude, they're for real! At least a size G, I think!" he proclaimed to the whole world. Seeing the murderous look in her husband's face, he worked quickly to forestall any retaliatory strike on Cloud's part, clicking a smaller button on his weapon. A transparent, cream - coloured pyramid of electrical energy now encased the ex - SOLDIER, leaving him to vent his rage on the barrier separating him from the man who had just taken liberties with his wife. Rude stood next to the techno - magical prison, fists prepared, ready to cover his partner in case the imprisoned warrior broke out prematurely. Reno left the irate kickboxer behind; she was merely a target of opportunity; but they could not complete their mission unless the Ancient was apprehended. The girl, still paralysed by the pain of her injuries, did not offer any resistance, and his lecherous hand emerged once more, but this time to take her with him. 

"Arrgh!" The spy could suddenly feel a wave of heat creeping up behind him, and hear the dying yell of the SOLDIER watching his back. A giant fireball had enveloped the man, hot enough to melt his protective clothing, his ballistic armour turning cherry red like pottery in the kiln. He soon became an indistinct orange, yellowish - white shape with a humanoid black core, dancing around as the flames of anger devoured him with grotesque relish. No more sounds came from him, as he no longer had a mouth or a throat or lungs, and he could not scream again. Right behind the dying fighter lay Barret, resting on one knee, copious amounts of smoke rising from his weapon after having fired his Big Shot. With a final lurch, the immolated warrior fell forward, crashing into the Turk leader… the fire, searching for more organic matter to burn, found the alcohol patches on his coat, and Reno was now at risk of being barbecued himself. He cursed bitterly, setting aside his plans to catch the girl, and threw himself onto the parquet, rolling back towards safety, hoping to quench the flames eating at his suit. Amazingly, when he finally crashed against the hard wall at the far end of the family hall, the fire had been put out, but now he would have nothing to wear for several days (his spare uniforms were still at the dry cleaners), and worse still, he was out of position. It would take precious seconds for him to run back to his men, and his return would come too late to prevent Avalanche from regaining the advantage. 

The Ancient had managed to recover some of her composure, and he saw the fateful orange flares that indicated that she had hit her Limit Break as well. Tough luck; now all their hard work would be undone. Her rod began to spin of its own accord, but she steadied it, securing it in the crook of her arm, keeping it close to her chest. Her lips moved without sound as her plea for aid went straight to the Planet she had given her life for. A warm, pleasant breath of air, the lightest touch of welcoming spring blew in from parts unknown, directions untold, dispelling the pre - winter chill that had fallen everywhere, converging upon the summoning Cetra and her companions. Beautiful bright blue, rounded gems floated revolved around hero and heroine alike, using the intense energy they possessed to mend and make anew flesh, bone, blood and sinew, making the wounded whole again, chasing away the pain and the tiredness that had dogged them for the whole of this predawn raid. And when the Healing Wind dissipated at last, Avalanche stood ready once more, refreshed and prepared to meet another onslaught with renewed strength and vigour. 

"Pull back, everybody! Time for Plan B," Reno signaled over the PHS. Ah, the wonders of technology. Thanks goodness their own radio sets weren't blocked by the jamming devices provided by the Science Department. To the SOLDIER next to him he ordered, "Keep them busy until I tell you to cease." While Rude and the rest returned to his side, the trooper duly went back into the fray, and presently he observed the rebels falling to the deck as his man sent blazing carpets of spell - fire their way, all thanks to an Enemy Skill materia and a sack full of dead flies in the Mithril Mines. 

Satisfied that Cloud and company wouldn't be bothering him for a while, he removed from yet another hidden pocket of his "well - ironed" jacket a small metal canister. Twisting it open, he tossed away the cover, slowly taking out a glass sphere the size of a golf ball, filled with a strange, oily grey liquid. Invented by Scarlet just prior to her happy demise, this was their insurance, their back - up plan in case the enemy proved stronger than expected, which was exactly what Reno had foreseen. It had been a bold gamble attempting this capture with support from only two squads of SOLDIERs, but he'd figured that the element of surprise would balance things in their favour. Well, it hadn't, but they still had a chance. At any rate, he hadn't committed his reserves yet. 

"Are you certain about this, Reno?" Rude questioned, looking long and hard at him.

"What do you think, man? It's a direct order from Mr. President, remember?" the assassin reminded his colleague, inspecting the little crystal ball at length. 

"That's what you told me before you pressed that switch, " the shaven - headed man replied, folding his arms. 

"Chill out, pal… it's not as serious as killing five million people this time. This baby will mess things up just enough to make them blow this joint. From what I've heard, a bad experience is the best teacher… and I'm sure she hasn't forgotten what happened at Junon. Just get everyone in position, all right?" Patting his comrade's shoulder, the spy walked forward until he was a few steps away from the water closet. "That's enough," he told the trooper who had literally provided covering fire. The SOLDIER ran off, and he gave the recovering Avalanche members a sly, predatory grin. "I've got a present for you!" That being said, he lobbed the glass ball into the bathroom, hightailing it back to Rude and the others. Those capsules he and his men had been taking for the past week had better work now.

"Grenade! Take cover!" Cloud yelled as he saw the bomb being thrown at them. There would be no time for anyone to pick up and throw away the explosive device like they always did in the movies, as it was common practice for Shinra soldiers, after pulling the pin, to hold on to the grenade for a few seconds before throwing it. The bomb would simply explode the moment it reached the target. They could only duck and hope for the best, but the results of a grenade exploding in such a small room wouldn't be pretty. But instead of the anticipated dull metallic clank caused by the landing of the grenade, he heard only the crash of breaking glass and a scream from Elmyra. The explosive had landed in the bathtub!

"Mom!" Ignoring what the spiky - haired swordsman had told them, Aeris sprang up, rushing to the tub. Next to her mother and friend was an expanding cloud of gray smoke, rising slowly and insidiously from the remnants of the broken glass globe. She caught a whiff of the strange gas, and its smell reminded her instantly of the fresh fruits she'd gathered while passing through the woods and glades during her travels. But her hands had begun to shake, and her teeth had started chattering. Nevertheless, she quickly helped the two of them out of the smoking tub, trying to hold them steady despite the tremors that were making her limbs defy her commands, even as they too began to fall prey to the strange symptoms she was suffering from. 

The smoke had reached Barret and the others, and Tifa quickly covered her nose and mouth with her sleeve, motioning to the rest to do so. After Meteor appeared, Rufus had tried and sentenced to death all the members of Avalanche he could find, blaming them for summoning the mammoth comet. She'd been sent to the gas chamber, and had barely escaped it alive. For the rest of her life she would never forget that sickly sweet smell, for this perfume was in reality a deadly nerve gas, chosen deliberately for its slow - acting properties. It would kill a person within thirty minutes, and the victim of the gassing would have plenty of time to know that he was slowly losing control of his bodily functions, that he was dying, and he could not do a single thing to stop his life slipping away. She had nearly succumbed to the poison gas, but by a lucky chance a Weapon had attacked Junon, and one of its powerful magic bolts had blasted a hole in the gas chamber, allowing her to climb out, sparing her from sharing the fate of the luckless people who had died in that execution room. 

"It's poison gas! Stay low!" she gave a muffled warning. 

"They obviously want to smoke us out," Cloud muttered, pressing his head to the ground, "We run out of here, get surrounded from all sides, and get slaughtered." 

"Is this… the end, Aeris?… Hackack! W - what will we do now?"

"We'll think of something… they won't defeat us that easily," the flower girl murmured without hesitation, keeping her two charges safe in her embrace, bowing her head, shutting her eyes, holding her breath, reciting a prayer Ifalna had once taught her, once more asking the Planet for aid. 

"If Aerith's not scared, I ain't! C'mon, Aunt!" Barret's daughter smiled, even though death was already covering her with his shroud, with a view to claiming her little life. 

__

"Hmm… I've seen that sword before. He used to carry around something like this all the time too. I never really understood why a SOLDIER would want to use something so big and so heavy." 

"You call this heavy? Nah. You get used to it after a while. It's big and broad because it's meant for dirty work, like breaking down doors and cutting through someone's armour. I've heard that some people can chop almost anything in two with it… they were the best swordsmen ever, those guys…" He returned to polishing the already mirror - like blade, and spent the rest of the day in silence, never taking his eyes off the huge weapon. 

"Say, Cloud… can't you cut a hole in the wall?" she suggested. She couldn't breathe now. Her breaths had become short and shallow, her lung felt as if it was slowly shrinking, as if its scant vital capacity was diminishing with each passing moment. It would be only a matter of time before she stopped breathing altogether. 

Through the smoke, the mercenary gave her a questioning look, before staring at the Ultima Weapon. It was made of harder stuff than anything he'd ever known, but would it be able to cut through a three - foot - thick wall of granite blocks without snapping? The Buster Sword wouldn't stand a chance at all, but…

"Never done that before, but we'll all die if we don't try something." He took a deep breath through the crude filter of his shirt sleeve. Gripping the magical blade, he charged headlong at the wall, and he was pleasantly surprised as he met little resistance on the way in; the sword sank into the tough stone rather easily. With his new stonecutting device he drove the blade several feet upwards until it was at chest level. Drawing the weapon out of the wall was equally easy, and he plunged the Ultima Weapon in again, this time making it go sideways. A downward stroke, and another horizontal cut, and he had created a small and rough square cutout in the wall. But now another problem presented itself. How were they to remove the newly carved stone? He placed one foot on the cut stone, but it remained defiantly attached to the rest of the wall.

He couldn't take the lack of air any longer, and he assumed a prone position again, having little choice but to inhale some of the poisoned air, cursing as the huge sword instantly started to slip from jittery hands. Soon he wouldn't be able to hold his weapon at all. He began to crawl back to the entrance, where the tainted air was thinnest. 

"I've made an opening," he announced, "But we're still stuck unless we can push away that block of stone."

Barret went to the side, emptying his magazine at the wall section. The granite square willingly accepted his ammunition, but budged only so slightly. With time he might have been able to blast away the block, but their time was running out. 

"Stand back, Barret. Let's hope this works…" the Cetra spoke with some difficulty, trying to concentrate on her magic amidst a fit of coughing that made her bend double, ignoring the saliva dripping from her mouth, which had dropped open on its own accord. A smoky red nimbus surrounded her, and rays of intense orange light streaked away, curling and corkscrewing as they homed in on her target. As each of the laser beams struck the obstinate block, large, deep cracks appeared in the bullet - riddled stone, and by the time the bombardment was over, the granite was starting to crumble like a soft biscuit, nothing now but a large mosaic of igneous rock chips. The former rebel leader fired again to clear away the debris, and after all the pebbles had fallen away from the wall section, they could see through the newly made hole, despite the swirling smoke, a queen - sized bed and what was left of a vanity table after a swift moment of violence. They had won through! 

"You did it, Aeris!" The flower lady bowed meekly as Tifa hugged her. 

"Yo, peeps! You wanna sit here and play possum?" Barret called out, "C'mere, Marlene!" He guided his ward to the hole, pushing her through the small aperture. Elmyra was next to go, and with a little encouragement from both sides, made it through after several seconds. Everyone else made it through with the greatest haste, for more than twenty minutes had elapsed since the glass grenade had been thrown in. A little while more and the gas would have put her to sleep. The Ancient girl sighed audibly, grateful that she could close her mouth now, relieved that her hands had stopped shaking. 

The spiky - haired leader held his hand up for silence, and crawled towards the open door of the master bedroom, exposing his head only long enough for a quick look outside. The Shinra strike force was positioned some distance away from the bathroom, waiting for them to come out, but the two Turks had their eyes elsewhere, watching the other rooms in case someone suddenly emerged. They'd heard the noises coming from the smoky room, but they weren't sure whether Avalanche had escaped. Reno looked at his watch, counting off the few minutes that remained before the poison gas would kill those trapped inside. 

He crept back towards the little group, before briefing them of the situation outside. "We'll have to make a run for the stairs. Can't afford to stick around here in case he's got more of those smoke bombs," Cloud whispered, and he turned to the green - eyed girl. "Teef, Barret and I will go out first and distract them. Take Marlene and Elmyra and get out of the house. We'll join you ASAP. But be careful - Reno may have reinforcements waiting nearby."

"Ready?" He received a tense nod from all and sundry. "Let's do it!" The terrible trio stormed out, laying down a barrage of metal and magical fire. Two SOLDIERs, taken unawares by the sudden attack, fell down screaming, while the rest went on their hands and knees, leopard - crawling towards their attackers. Reno responded immediately by crouching and firing back at the advancing freedom fighters, while Rude began to raise the barrier shields anew. 

"Now, Aeris!" Cloud commanded. The flower merchant needed no further urging from the blonde fighter, as several SOLDIERs, having closed the short distance between the two parties, now rose up with bared blades to face the three rebels. The youthful Marlene bolted down the stairs without assistance, while she held her mother's hand, helping her negotiate the steps as quickly as possible. 

Reno saw the Ancient going down to the ground floor, but he could not move to stop her. He could barely evade the 50 - calibre bullets hacking up the floor tiles next to him, and he could already see the sharpened ice crystals form around him. He'd have to get past Cloud and the others first, and even if he succeeded, Aeris would have long escaped. He curled into a ball, covering his face with his hands, gritting his teeth as the frost shards shredded his clothes, tearing into his flesh. Those wounds were painful enough, but luckily for him, Rude had just cast a Mbarrier on the whole party, otherwise he might have suffered serious injuries instead.

As soon as the hailstone barrage stopped, he yanked out the PHS, considering what would happen now. He'd gone over the floor plans of this house several times, promptly discovering that he hadn't enough men to cover all the entry and exit ports without leaving a sufficiently large force to attack the members of Avalanche. He had opted for a total containment of the first floor, while stationing one team below in the event of the rebels managing to escape via the stairs or even through the windows. It was time to commit his reserves.

"Elena, the Ancient's coming your way! Get ready!" This was all he could say before he was on the move again, before some lead or mana got sprayed his way. He could only pray that things would work out properly this time.

Once at the foot of the stairs, Aeris took the lead, keeping her large eyes open for SOLDIERs as they made their way through the living room. It was only a short walk of a few metres to the front door, but the stress of battle made it appear as if they had to run for a whole mile before they could leave the house. The hall was empty, having seen none of the action unfolding upstairs, and the air was considerably cleaner, free of the sour stench of blood and the acrid smell of cordite, and the furniture was still neatly ordered and intact. They made it to the exit without incident, coming to the locked threshold that would lead out into the cobblestone street. She paused, fingers resting on the handle, taking a few deep breaths, allowing her cramped, leaden limbs, still recovering from the effects of exertion and the nerve gas, a few seconds' respite. But she dared not hesitate for too long, and she spun the wheel lock hastily, fearing that each click, sounding as loud as a gunshot in this silent room, would alert Reno and his men. Finally she turned the handle, pulling the old oak door inwards… as she gasped. She could not see the dim welcoming lights of the street at all.

"Well, look who's here." Elena and four SOLDIERs stood between them and safety.

"Stay behind me," the Ancient whispered, and she stepped back slowly, the Princess Guard at the ready. She was under no impressions that she would be able to prevail, being outnumbered five to one, but their safety was her concern. The Shinra forces were after her, after all. Perhaps she could give them a chance. 

The Turk and her men quickly ate up the few feet separating them, leaving the doorway and entering the room proper. The SOLDIERs now seized the advantage, and in a moment the flower girl and her relatives were trapped in a loose circle.

"Cloud! Help us!" Aeris cried at the top of her voice, wondering how long she could delay Elena's attack. Once the fighting started, she might get captured, but her mother and Marlene would certainly get killed… and the Turks would only dismiss their deaths as only collateral damage. 

The blond snorted. "Don't bother. You can't escape me today. You'd better come clean about everything now, worthless Ancient." She drew a long - barreled handgun from her coat, flicking off the safety in full view of the Cetra girl, pointing it at her face. 

What was Elena talking about? But the longer she could delay the blue - suited lady with casual conversation, the more time Cloud would have to come to their aid… and the more time she would have to prepare herself. 

"What do you mean?" she questioned. 

"Hmph! Stop trying to play innocent, stupid Ancient! You're nothing but a bloody hunting wolf in sheep's clothing!" the junior assassin alleged, "You took him from me! He always said "No" to me because there was someone he wanted to protect, someone he wanted to care for… and you were the one going out with him!" Her voice climbed in pitch with each succeeding word she spoke, and she started gesturing wildly with her pistol.

Aeris leaned forward, curiosity and puzzlement overcoming her fears. "Who are you talking about, Elena? Surely it's not Zack… or Cloud…?" 

"Shut up! I've seen everything! Albums full of pictures of the two of you together! Videotapes of every secret lover's rendezvous! And you still deny it?! You deprived me of a chance to be with him, and when he finally changed for the better, it was too late! Aren't you happy to know that Tseng is dead? Tell me!" She was practically screaming now, her eyes almost as wide and large as the flower seller's. 

The red - faced Elena was coming in closer and closer, and the SOLDIERs followed her lead. The Cetra had often seen the toughs and the drunks in the slums behave in the same way, and she knew that the Turk was too caught up by her passions for honest explanations to work on her. Her time was running out. She took one last step backwards, close enough to speak under her breath to Elmyra and Marlene. 

"When the fighting starts, leave at once. Find a place to hide," she instructed them, "Don't cry now, I'll be safe, and I'll be searching for you. We'll be together again really soon."

Now she stared the blond full in the face, the angel in her eyes stern and steady, leveled against the unseeing, unreasonable gleam that clouded her counterpart's vision, ready to battle the demon within that was driving her to violence. For just a second Elena halted her extravagant movements, as if she was suddenly aware of what she was going up against, considering whether things might not go her way this time, but this moment of lucidity was too brief to change the course of events, and she pressed on, cocking her gun, her jaw locked, her shoulders squared. 

And then the staff struck her soundly, sending her shot high and wide, raining down plaster and brick dust upon everyone. Aeris was upon them, spinning a full three hundred and sixty degrees, the Princess Guard, like a polearm, giving her impressive reach, forcing the surprised SOLDIERs to backpedal away from her, opening up large gaps of free space around her. The containment circle was breached, and their chance had come. "You must go! Please!" she cried, even as the red - uniformed men recovered, their large blades shielding them and slashing at her, stopping her from making another of her wide round sweeps. The woman and the girl now ran towards the unguarded door, but one SOLDIER had broken off, rushing towards the fleeing duo, about to catch them within seconds. Aeris, blocked by Elena and the remaining troopers, was too far away to reach him, but she absolutely had to do something to save her friend and mother. 

"Don't touch them!" She jumped, letting go of her guard stick, sending it flying at the pursuing SOLDIER, a flashing red and gold star shooting through the blackness. Her staff, desperately thrown, aimed without the benefit of calm precision, was guided by the spirits of the Ancients, and it did its mistress' will nonetheless. The 1st Class groaned as the weapon dug into his thigh, causing him to fall on his side, and he couldn't help but announce his anger and agony through the transmitters on his helmet as he yanked the improvised spear from his wounded leg. He stood up, leaning on his good leg, yet his targets had long disappeared from view. 

Unarmed, and unable to use her magic in such close proximity to the enemy, Aeris quickly found herself restrained by Elena's men, and once more she found herself staring down the barrel of the lady Turk's handgun. 

"On your knees!" she ordered, and the white mage tasted dust and powdered paint in her mouth as a kick to the back sent her sprawling on the floor. The rough hands grabbed both her arms at the joint, and another person pulled her ponytail, jerking up her head, allowing the Cetra to see her accuser. 

"You're mistaken, Elena… I never had anything to do with Tseng," she began, but she completed her sentence with a scream, as the butt end of the pistol connected with her jaw. 

"Liar!" The girl squeezed shut her eyes, crying out again as the wood and metal handle smashed against the uninjured side of her face. "You liar!" She felt the warm steel pressing on her forehead, ready to take her life at any moment.

"Still don't wanna come clean? It doesn't matter now. I'm too sad. I don't wanna talk with a lousy adulterer like you! I only wish you could suffer the pain I'm going through now!" Her finger slowly began to travel the final half - inch that would cause the trigger to be depressed fully, a split second away from completing the deadly series of movements that would release the restraints of prudence, letting go of the firing pin, sending the striker forward to ignite the explosive charge her hate had gathered up for a long time, propelling the destructive missile that would bring her rival's life to a bloody end like Tseng's. 

"Elena! Remember our orders!" Reno barked. Hearing the sounds of fighting down below, he and Cloud had descended the stairs. Each man had sought to assist the woman in his life, and each sought to prevent the other from lending aid. The mercenary had gone down first, yet he had been pinned to the ground as the redhead pounced on him. They had tumbled down the stairs in a dust bunny of flailing arms and legs, but now their battle had ceased, both of them concerned about the safety of the Ancient, but each for a different reason.

"To hell with our orders! I'm not gonna bother about sending that bitch to Nibelheim alive! He can have her rotting carcass for all I care!" She grinned wildly at the Ancient, pulling back the trigger completely, firing the gun, "That's for Tseng!!!" 

"AERIS!!"

"ELENA, NO!!"

****

One shot rang out. Then a second, and a third. A fourth. And a fifth. Five more loud reports speaking of doom. Elena had emptied her entire magazine, expending enough deadly force to kill ten men, but not enough to satisfy her need for vengeance.

The flower girl's bleeding mouth dropped open in surprise, and her eyes bulged with wonderment. She planted her hands on the ground, steadying herself as she beheld the unexpected. 

Elena had switched targets at the very last second. 

Ever since the death of the one she loved, she had tried to hunt down everyone whom she believed was responsible for his murder. For a time she believed that Avalanche had killed him. But she had discovered that the spiky - haired leader had indeed spoken the truth. Reeve had corroborated Cloud's story, showing her footage and recordings gathered by his proxy. Cait had been part of the party which had entered the Temple of the Ancients. Cloud had not trusted the robot at all, and he had forced the cat to lead the way, while he and Aeris followed behind. Cait had witnessed everything, including the murder, and long would she remember the name and the features of the villain who had killed her boss. 

But cruel Fortune had denied her the chance to go after his killer, and she saw in the newly revived Ancient a tangible target for her revenge. If she could not kill the person who had murdered the boss, she would settle for disposing of the person who had caused her to lose her chance to love Tseng. She wanted to grab at every possible straw, to destroy someone, anyone, no matter how remotely connected he or she was to her misfortune, if only it could set her lovelorn spirit at ease.

But now, another chance had fallen into her lap. In her mind, this man was the more culpable by far, and his transgressions immeasurably outweighed whatever crimes Aeris had committed. She had taken away his love, but that monster had killed him! He was the one who truly deserved to die!

That man, the one with the black cloak and the platinum hair, melted out of the cold and the darkness, his large frame casting a long shadow a long shadow in the doorway. His eight - foot blade was drawn and waiting for combat proper to commence, its tip resting gently on the ground. Ten shiny, flattened pieces of metal lay scattered around him. 

"Come… If you wish for death, I will give it to you." 

"You're the one who's gonna die, asshole! You and that brazen hussy!" Spittle spattered from her mouth, every blood vessel in her brown eyes about to burst. Her nerves, weakened by over a year of stress and depression, cracked the moment she saw her lover's murderer, and her hands now failed her. She fumbled as she reached into her pockets for another clip, and when she managed at last to pull the magazine out of her pocket, it evaded her grip, clattering at her feet. Sephiroth did not move, merely sneering at Elena's pathetic attempts to kill him.

"Kill him for me!" she ordered the SOLDIERs, her voice fearful to hear, a shrill, piercing wail. Slowly, painfully, she closed a cramped hand over the clip, only to have it slip through her fingers again. With some doubts, but with no hesitation, the 1st Class troopers sallied forth, wordlessly confronting their former general. And then the one - winged angel was in the air. Into the thicket of steel he flew, and with one foot he landed onto one trooper's upheld blade, bashing in the man's head with the other, causing the SOLDIER to fall backwards. Placing his full weight on the weapon, Sephiroth slid off the lowered blade. He sank the Masamune into the man's heart, and his victim was dead before hitting the floor. 

The three remaining SOLDIERs now broke out into a dead run before him, but the white - maned villain stood where he was, plunging his sword into the ground, burying one foot of the shining steel beneath the wooden tiles. Without taking his eyes off the charging attackers, he twisted the handle, letting his enemies see the blade's mirror - like length, letting them behold their impending doom. The earth itself began to stir, awakened by his summons. His plans were instantly revealed as the ground beneath them buckled and cracked, the yawn of the broken crust as loud as thunder, halting his opponents' charge. Without warning, the floor segment which carried the man in the middle began to rise, tearing free of its fellow tiles, taking with it the cement layer which it was still glued to, the concrete foundations and part of the bedrock below. As one symmetrical, oblong block, it rose with the speed of a piledriver at work, taking with it the astonished SOLDIER, and it slammed into the ceiling, going in with such deafening force that the smoothly cut bottom of that curious magical crusher was flush with the ceiling. The errant box of rock and building materials, having served its purpose, fell back into the exact same hole in the ground from whence it came, bearing with it a sticky red and white powdery paste mixed with cement dust and flaked paint, along with a long strip of metal, flattened to the thickness of a cardboard sheet. He drew out the Masamune, and immediately the earth ceased to quake, the cracks miraculously knitting together, the savaged hardwood floor healing itself as quickly as the damage had occurred, and in the space of a few swift seconds, no evidence remained of the carnage that had just occurred except what was left of the luckless SOLDIER. 

Now only two men were left to challenge Sephiroth, and they proceeded with weapons prepared to address any sudden moves on the former villain's part, treading lightly in case the earth opened up again to crush them. But the man in black just stepped forward, executing a slow and simple horizontal slash that even the lowest SOLDIER trainee was expected to be able to parry. The two weapons came up to meet his challenge, but now a faint green glow enveloped the holy sword, covering it from point to hilt. And when the swords met… the Masamune cut through the raised weapons, sundering the one - inch thick blades wielded by the SOLDIERs, continuing unstopped on its path to ruin. And the last two men perished with their bodies incomplete, their heads lying besides their broken arms. 

He faced Elena again, assuming his ready position once more. The blood of his victims began to flow down the edge of the weapon, forming a small puddle at the spot where the point pressed into the floor. 

"Why do you hesitate?"

The lady Turk had by now regained a residual amount of her composure. She now stood with her legs firmly planted on the ground, the muscles on her face taut, her eyes reddened slits, her teeth grinding against each other. Gripping her reloaded pistol with both hands, she had pointed it at him in readiness to fire. And she fired again. 

Another storm of steel came at Sephiroth, and the Masamune flickered upwards in his defence. It was a marvel to see each bullet striking the enchanted blade, for it was as if a small orange - coloured firework had exploded upon contact with the longsword. Equally marvelous to behold was the sight of the pointed projectiles flattening themselves against the magical metal, blooming like some exotic lead mushroom, bouncing off the blade as they consumed their vigour, before dropping heavily on the floor, defeated, their driving force spent. 

Issuing an unladylike imprecation, the blue - suited woman tossed away her handgun, baring her fists, cracking her knuckles. "I will kill you today, even if I have to do it with my bare hands!" But she could not take a single step towards the ex - megalomaniac, as Reno had reached her, wrapping an arm around her neck, another grabbing her waist. 

"Let me go, Reno!" she snarled, "He killed the boss!" 

"Shut up, Elena. You aren't thinking rationally." He sighed. This was starting to resemble the cheesy, cliched, plotless action flicks that kept rearing their ugly heads at primetime slots on TV channels throughout the Planet. 

Sephiroth snorted, continuing to taunt her. "You're even more pathetic than she is."

"Get out of my way!" The blond did not want to be stopped, and now she turned against her boyfriend, her elbows digging deep into his ribs, several violent horse - kicks causing him to wobble slightly. The redhead took all these in stride - he would probably be black and blue all over after this little scuffle, but he'd experienced far worse injuries in bed with her. 

"Do you honesty think you can kill him?" he went on, but as a professional, an intimate friend, and as a leader, there was only one thing he could do now, painful as it was. "You can't avenge his death," he said finally.

"Defeatist scum! And you still dare to wear the blue tux! What happened to the spirit of the Turks? &@#* you!" The curses continued to fly, and the violence continued, marked by red lines and festoons of torn skin on Reno's face. The spy grimly weathered her outburst, and he let go of her waist, pulling out his electric rod, turning the power dial to its lowest setting. He set the silver tip of the nightstick against her neck, and pushed the firing stud. Only then did she give up the struggle, incapacitated by the stun blast. This was quickly getting ridiculous. He was supposed to use his weapon on the Ancient, not against one of his colleagues. Man, how he hated B - grade movies. Life imitated art in its lowest form. And she _still _didn't understand what the spirit of the Turks really stood for. 

He lifted up Elena's paralysed body, slinging her over his back in the same way as he had carried the Ancient almost an hour ago. In one of his pockets he stowed his nightstick, and from another he removed another crystal ball, but this one was not so well protected as the nerve gas grenade he had used earlier. He now addressed the remaining people in the room, smirking at them, hefting the glass sphere in his hand. 

"That's all, folks… for now, at least. You'll hear from us again pretty soon, and when that happens, we'll have the upper hand! So there!" The covert agent let go of the round container; it did not break upon contact with the floor, but bounced several times, coming to a stop a few feet away from him. He straightened out his coat, set the flaps back into his pockets, tapping his feet a few times to remove some of the dust that had settled on his patent leather loafers. To his brow his hand went, and he raised his sunshades in a parting gesture. And as he stepped away from them, the glass shell of the bomb he had dropped dissolved, releasing thick white clouds of cold moisture that soon spread everywhere, blanketing the entire ground floor of the house. Even an escape was something to be carried out with precision and finesse. Not only must the enemy be rendered unable to pursue or capture him, his disappearing act would also have to be something impressive, a performance that would be able to convince his adversaries that the Turks were agents who were stayed frosty even if they couldn't achieve their objectives… they were survivors who would come back another day to finish the job. 

Silence fell upon the wrecked house as the fog generated by the carbon dioxide smoke ball cleared. Cloud crouched behind the Cetra, helping her to return to her feet, both of them looking up at the silver - haired SOLDIER who had driven off the Shinra troops. In response, he raised his chin at them, his lips stiffened, the glowing Mako gaze firm and hard, his cloak billowing out behind him in the cold breeze that came in from the outside, his drawn sword still gleaming at his side, ready to strike. Nothing but silence passed between them. Cloud had seen that face so many times in the newsreels, the Shinra recruiting flyers and on the posters he once pinned up in his bedroom. Zack had told Aeris many tales about Safer Sephiroth, the genius who had become a general in the Shinra army at the age of seventeen, and looking at him now, she now realised that every single yarn was true, fact and embellishments alike. But these days were over, having vanished long ago in a sea of blood and flames. Time had passed him by… by now he had already crossed the threshold, his back turned upon the young man and woman, and he quickly melted back into the blackness, returning to the present. 

"Wow… what a guy. You know, he's not as bad as you think, Cloud," Aeris spoke at last, grinning at him, "At least he gave us a hand."

The mercenary kept his eyes fixed upon the dark, open doorway. Now that Jenova's influence was gone for good, who was this person who wore the black cloak and carried the eight - foot holy sword? What was driving him now? "I knew him once…," he replied at last. "Is this the same man I'm seeing now?" 

*****

Reno took his chances, boldly charging out the front door, keying his PHS hotkey to call for the helicopter that would evacuate what was left of his little task force. 

"Compromised! Extraction failed, abort mission immediately!" He announced, giving the order to retreat.

The wheels in his head were now working overtime, mulling over the reasons why their second mission to capture the Ancient had failed, and why their latest attempt to defeat Avalanche had resulted in a humiliating defeat. However, it didn't take him very long to figure out that things had gone so badly only because of his lack of foresight and the ill luck they had suffered. Now it was time for him to find a way to explain their lack of success in the most favourable light possible. 

It was bad enough when Rufus was still a human being, but now he'd have to face an irate, chaingun - toting, missile - launching kiddie robot upon his return. Then again, at the very least, he had a very good excuse brewing in his mind now. He only had to utter a single magic word, point the finger at the perfect scapegoat to get the Turks off the hook (but of course, he would have to remind Elena not to say anything about her abortive attempt to brain the already brainless Ancient). 

But just what would the President say when he told him that Sephiroth too had returned from the dead?

A/N: Ah, at last. Thank God. Thanks everyone, for waiting for me. I had to take a month off to revise for the exams (miraculously, I survived!). On top of that, it's taken nearly a month to complete this chapter. It's horribly hard to start writing again after even such a short hiatus, and I would spend whole days writing only sentences or paragraphs, and it was only a few days ago that I started churning out one or two pages per day. I look back at the first few chapters and I say "wow, how the heck could I generate so much crap?" Maybe I'll answer that someday, right now I'm more concerned with putting this up on the site to reward my patient readers. Unfortunately, school is reopening next week, and this means less time for me to write, but you can be sure I won't be giving this fic up in a hurry, but if you actually like it, add it to your favourites, or else be prepared to search page no. 50 something or so in the fic list after filtering things out (that's how I managed to trace a KH story I forgot to bookmark last time, though I'm exaggerating about the number of pages I had to go through).

Can you recognise the shadows Reno is so afraid of when he enters Aeris' room? Is Ansem trying to take over the Planet too? (of course not, but a small KH reference seemed all right here). I'm not sure what Rude's weapon would look like, but a spiked glove with painful mini - drills this seemed devious and heavy - handed enough. Here, Reno's nightstick is able to carry out ranged as well as the melee attacks shown in the game. 

A problem I faced in making this chapter was finding words to describe all the sword fights here. How many words can you find to replace "blade" or "floor"? (A similar problem would be attempting to describe the range of facial features available on a human being. Should look up a web site on emotes or something). I don't know very much about fencing or other styles of swordplay, so I just try to think of something, or worst come to worst, just write down a simple "hack and slash" routine. Too bad Cloud isn't carrying a lightsabre, otherwise the wall - cutting scene would be something cool like the Phantom Menace. 

Which makes me wonder why SOLDIERs don't use ranged weapons like the blue shirt guards. Surely they would be at a disadvantage? Here, I have them wear bulletproof armour made of ceramics (yes, it's true, but I can't believe ("military grade") pottery can withstand bullets, but apparently the best bulletproof vests have pouches where you can insert ceramic shields that can stop even high velocity missiles). Immune to conventional ranged weapons, and armed with materia, they will be able to come in close enough to use their outsized blades on their opponents. 

Some spell effects, like Haste or Healing Wind, have to be seen rather than having someone else describe it to you. For the purposes of making things harder for our heroes, I decided to make the Barrier and Mbarrier spells a little more effective for the villains too. 

I'm sorry if I couldn't include more of the Avalanche members, but it would be technically difficult to write a dialogue for 9+ guys and draft scenes where each of them get a kill (that's probably another reason why squaresoft allows only 3 people per party). 

Despite the fact that this is a pretty graphic chapter, with bloodshed, killing and passions gone wild, I've still tried to put a bit of humour here and there. One commonly discussed (and overused) subject in FF7 humour fics is whether Tifa's boobs are real, for example. Here, Reno finds it out for himself, and gets away with it! 

Another mystery of FF7 world is why Tifa can survive so long in the gas chamber. Leave your PS1 on for 24 hours, come back and Teef is still waiting for you to free her. The only plausible explanation would be that Scarlet probably used a slow - acting agent, and here I describe it as a nerve agent. Nerve gas poisoning is a terrible thing, and what I've written here should be considered mild compared to the true horrors which one can suffer from if exposed to it (otherwise I'd bump up the rating to R). If you've watched The Rock, you'll find those deadly little crystal balls very familiar indeed… But the Turks don't just have deadly weapons up their sleeve. They'll use anything they can find… even dry ice. 

If you watched the Kingdom Hearts 2 TGS Trailer, you'll also see that I based Sephiroth's grand entrance loosely on the last segment where Mickey arrives to save Sora's party. That was the coolest part, with the big eared mouse jumping in and slashing away, and you see Sora's mouth actually dropping open in amazement. Why is Mickey dressed like the bad guys? Who's the red haired guy in the black cloak wielding the red pinwheels? Looks a lot like Reno, especially with that haughty expression and the scars under the eyes. Pretty cool scene, though. "I can't let you meet Sora!" the blonde says to the redhead. If you get the official wallpaper, you don't see Riku anywhere. How much more will we see of him? Talking about Chain of Memories, in the opening cutscene, the black cloaked Unknown tells Sora that he will gain what he's looking for, but he'll lose something dear (or words to that effect). I get a chill when I read that, for this was what Cait Sith told Cloud at the Gold Saucer. He succeeded in killing Sephy, but Aerith had to die first. At any rate, I don't really care, as long as KH2 or COM features more of Aerith… Mandy Moore is OK I guess, but give Hayden Panettiere a few more years, and she'd be the perfect voice actress for the flower lady. 

Finally, I hope that Elena's reasons for trying to shoot Aeris are convincing. I love indulging in cheap, high drama scenes. She's high strung, hot - tempered and quick to jump to conclusions. She is driven by her emotions. The death of a love interest, as in Cloud's case, spurs one to perform acts of heroism… but it can make a person lose his mind too. Elena should be pitied, not hated… What exactly does the spirit of the Turks embody?

Here are the replies to my Reviewers! Once more, thanks for keeping your fingers crossed! Let this be my New Year's present to you!

Just this once, I'll start from the last, before going down to the first, to keep things interesting=)

__

To Divine Star: 

It'll take a long time for him to learn, but she'll keep on trying. It'll take quite a bit to draw him out after 30 lonely years. Make no mistake, he is tough… Wonder how you managed to find my story… did you actually plough through all the search pages to find it?

__

To Cultist 007:

Nope, I've not given up yet! Leave the worrying to me, just enjoy the story as it comes… thanks for encouraging me, great to know that people out there are actually waiting for me to update!

__

To lunachan579():

I used to really hate Sephy for killing Aerith, but after writing about him, putting myself in his shoes, I can't help but feel that he might actually be a real human being… probably because we use our own feelings, our perceptions, and our experiences to flesh out the character in accordance with what you see in the game. I'm not afraid to say that it's possible to be actually sympathetic to him… because… I am him. Mwahahahaha! Who's the puppet now? 

For me, I worship Aerith (she's so sweet, and so pretty!). Unfortunately, my sis is an Aerith hater, and she thinks she's nothing but a giggly brainless girl. We've had countless quarrels over that issue. 

__

To kevinFanReader:

Thanks for the review, I like my pairings slow and easy. 

__

To Starfall4790:

Well, there's more Sephy, and more Reno, enough of them to keep a fangirl alive I hope. What else do you need? More Yuffie? Maybe next time. She looked cool in KH, her eyes were in fact bigger than Aerith's, which made me rather unhappy. Nobody beats Aerith when it comes to puppy - dog eyes! Yuffie's KH costume was originally designed for Rikku in FFX (according to what little I can decipher from the Ultimania guide; what a shame I don't understand Japanese, it's far better than the bradygames crap, and that's going by the pictures alone. Believe it or not, I bought it just to see more pictures of Aerith). 

Yeah, let me extend my condolences… Sephy and Cloud don't look that good in AC. Aerith does make an appearance (in Cloud's memories, perhaps?). There is one scene where Cloud is shown burying her in the lake, though you don't see much of her except her head. We can only pray she gets reborn or something like that, then the Aeris Resurrection Fetish supporters will have their most hoped for dreams come true. Though I'm not terribly optimistic. Tetsuya Nomura said that AC is not about something soft, like healing. It is about survival. Which implies that Cloud will probably have to learn to cope with his loss, rather than have her come back and have a grand celebration all over the Planet. 

Now… be patient… and enjoy this update… take your time to read it.

__

To derrangedkitten():

My story has a few less errors than most, probably because I take my time to write it. Unfortunately, my grammar has gone downhill ever since I was 12 years old, and I'm not good enough to compress a whole story into 1 fic (cool idea!).

Nope, I live in Singapore… if Reno were to do what he did to Tifa where I live, he'd be getting the Michael Fay treatment already. 

__

To Falling rain:

Sephy looks girly in AC. Period. What can a poor boy like him do when the family he has known for so long suddenly gets taken away from him? What happens when he is subject to torture, deprivation and loneliness? He goes mad. He forgets about what makes him human in the first place. He forgets about love and affection.

__

From: Dark Ha Des:

You got everything right, well done! You could start writing synopses for my chapters, I couldn't summarise everything in point form even if I tried.

__

To Phantom Kensai:

I am as paranoid as Sephiroth, and that drives my parents up the wall all the time, so don't worry. Some sites have Japanese mag scans of articles pertaining to AC, so if you can read the language, you're in luck. But the pictures are cool. Have fun!

__

To Crow T R0bot:

Hey, hope your HTML woes are over… Started on FF13 yet? Will it star Aeris? Saw Silent Hill 3 selling in the shops, but eyes popped out when I looked at requirements… if memory serves me correctly, 1Ghz or something (probably lower)… no way my antiquated system (450Mhz) can play the game. Hope yours can run it. 

__

To Homunculus:

Your prudence and foresight is rewarded handsomely with the author alert message telling you of the update! Hope to see more KH or FF7 art… especially more about the flowergirl! Sephiroth is a soldier, unaccustomed to things of beauty and purity… but it's up to someone to teach him how to appreciate them…

__

To the Constructicons:

Devastator eats wheat??? Thought it was Froot Loops, enough variety for all 6 bots. 

__

To Quincy007:

One gem of wisdom: don't go around beating up the weak sick kid, lest he get jabbed with Jenova cells and Mako infusions and get turned into a Planet - killing, sword - slashing supervillain! He doesn't want to lose, and he doesn't want to be ruled. He is the man. The myth. The megalomaniac.

And as for Aeris… consider this question. There are 3 "only child(ren)" in this story, Aeris, Sephiroth, and ???? (can you guess?). But why have they grown up so differently? How have the circumstances in which they have spent their formative years made them so fundamentally different? Nurture is key. 


	16. Chapter 16: The Evil You Know Or the Evi...

**OF A PURE HEART, A FALLEN KNIGHT AND THE ONE – WINGED ANGELS**

_-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

_**The Obligatory Disclaimer:**_

_Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII Advent Children, Final Fantasy VII Before Crisis, Final Fantasy VII Dirge of Cerberus, Final Fantasy X and X - 2, Kingdom Hearts I and II and Chain of Memories, Seiken Densetsu I, II and III, Legend of Mana and Sword of Mana, and Exosquad, and of all its associated characters, items, weapons, special abilities and gameplay elements, are the property of Square Enix Co and / or Disney and / or Universal Studios, and no claim is made, or intended to be made, expressly or implicitly, to the above copyrights. _

_Any ideas taken from other (non fan fiction) stories and / or computer games will be duly noted in the Author's Notes section. Remember, copyright protects the expression of the idea, not the idea itself. Go get a patent! _

_Eeeheeheeheeheehee!_

__

**_To other Fanfic Writers (This is admittedly more important than what I have to say to the faceless suits veiled by incorporation):_**

_I've tried my best to stay as original as possible, but it's a bit hard to write this type of story without treading on someone's toes by accident along the line. If I come across any ideas that I might like to reproduce here, I'll be sure to ask for your consent. _

_Please, if you feel that I may have 'borrowed' some of your concepts or ideas by mistake, notify me immediately. **Email** a "cease and desist" message to me, point out where I have gone wrong, and I will act immediately to remove or modify the offending section(s). _

_Thank you very, very much for your understanding and tolerance. _

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**_CHAPTER SIXTEEN: _****_THE EVIL YOU KNOW… OR THE EVIL YOU DON'T?_******

Lo! The destroyer of dreams walked again amongst men!

Here was a villain akin to the creature of legend known as Sin, an avatar of death that could never be truly defeated, but would always return with greater power, ready to begin a whole new cycle of chaos, all set to ruin every man's dreams!

And like the cosmic destroyer, Sephiroth had returned to foil his grand designs yet again!

He had been so very close to crushing the insurgency that had cost his company so much for so long, within a hair's breadth of making Cloud and his confederates grovel at his feet! But what had happened? From the deepest night the tiger had come, his voice like rolling thunder, heartlessly ripping apart his grand design that had been months in the planning! He had but savored the smallest drop of that lovely liqueur before victory had been snatched his jaws, leaving behind nothing save the taste of faeces!

A hundred kilograms of dense metal slammed into the desk. Wooden chips sped away with terrifying speed, eager to avoid his wrath. A mushroom of a dust cloud rose from the deep black hole that had once been Rufus Shinra's working area, mute witness to the destruction that had just occurred.

Who was the one who had caused his company, his Planet - spanning empire to fall apart around him, the pieces to be picked up by the mongrel dogs that held neither right nor title to what had been his demesne? Who was the one who had welcomed him to purgatory, turning his world forever barren and sterile in a hellish storm of mage fire? Who was the one who had saved AVALANCHE three times in all, allowing those insurgents to escape righteous retribution at his hands? He would never have failed in any his plans; he would never have lost his dominion over men; he would never have entered into the terrible tortuous twilight between life and death, but for the despicable doings of that white - haired demon!

Rufus snarled, and through his artificial voicebox he did sound like a wheel without a tyre grinding against hard rock. If all his teeth had not been destroyed along with his mouth, his nose, his ears, his tongue, his chin, his cheeks, his forehead, his jaws would have ground each other to dust as he began to recount the most terrible trespasses Sephiroth had committed against him.

Five WEAPONs had Sephiroth summoned, one to pound his most imposing fortresses to rubble, one to gain mastery of the high seas, another to devour any who traveled on land, and yet another to wrest the skies from him. And the last had been thrust like a dagger at the heart of Shinra power, a nearly unstoppable assassin whose sole purpose had been to destroy him! Sephiroth, that cowardly monster! Even Cloud the wimp had had the guts to face him man to man, in single combat!

And to add insult to injury, the fallen general had summoned the giant comet to lay fallow his entire world, bleed his company to death by draining away all the Mako in the Planet, to destroy forever any possible chance he had of regaining his power if he ever awoke from Diamond Weapon's attack.

His one stroke of good fortune was to survive the WEAPON's attack; but was it more a curse than a blessing?

He felt sick, but had no mouth to vomit. He felt hunger, but he could not eat, let alone taste his food, his entire head being confined in that glass diving bell. He would have to live in perpetuity with amounted to a starvation diet, having glucose and saline solutions pumped in through his veins in totally unnatural fashion. Not even the grass eaters suffered a plight such as his! He longed to rest on a bed covered with perfumed sheets and relax in the cool comfort of the air - conditioning, but he could feel nothing now. Never could he again partake of nature's balm, of sore labour's bath… he could do nothing each night except wait expectantly for the next dose of stimulants to keep his mind fresh, the next flood of liquefied Mako to repair the damage done to his body from all the unguents and medicaments and artificial implants that kept him in this world. Sephiroth had murdered his sleep!

And the migraines! These were no mere headaches which would go away with the pop of an aspirin, but they were like earthquakes that rocked his world until it cracked asunder in a conflagration of blood, until the stars burned out of existence in a supernova of blinding whites and yellows and black sackcloth. Those attacks were coming with greater and greater frequency, and not even the most addictive narcotics could blunt the pain by the tiniest amount.

He had always been in perfect health, but now he was a cripple, enfeebled to such an extent that his life and all normal functioning had to be preserved by a machine… and Sephiroth was the one who had done all this to him! A thousand terrors ghosted around in his mind, each a vision of the vengeance he would wreak on the one - winged angel for the pain and suffering he had endured.

Midgar could always be rebuilt, a Mako reactor could always be replaced, an empire always reestablished. Those rebels could always be captured and destroyed at his whim, given time… but he could never again be put back into the position he would have been in had Sephiroth's mischief never been committed. All that mattered now was that this disgruntled servant of his, that turncoat who had bitten off the hand of the company that had fed him… that daemon was still alive… Even if every gil he possessed would have to be spent, even if every man in his employ die, even if his company were to perish in the attempt, he would have his hands on Sephiroth!

But from the cavity from which he had once fed himself poured a thin, pale green liquid, swirling around the glass helmet, covering all the exposed fascia and fat and muscle until the acid in the fluid stung his eyes, letting him see the world through Mako - tinted glasses.

As President of the world's largest and richest company, disloyalty in his ranks and rebellions against his just rule were only to be expected. Scarlet and Heidegger had harboured dreams of sitting in the chief executive's chair, to the extent of putting aside their differences to build the Proud Clod, hoping to threaten him with that mechanical monstrosity. Even that spineless lard guzzler would have wrested control of the company from him if the opportunity had arisen. And there was AVALANCHE, those eco - terrorists who claimed to be freedom fighters. What had he to fear from his rivals? He was certainly capable of readying thousands upon thousands of fighting men, enough to cover every corner of the globe, plenty of war machines to scare the masses into submission, agents in abundance to see his will enforced…

But this was no SOLDIER reject who would break down the moment a pretty girl died. Nor was the man with white hair a blustering barbarian or a half - blind dog or a spoilt brat of a princess. Sephiroth was no ordinary challenger to the absolute rule of Shinra. He was an army unto himself! Who else could saunter through the front doors of the Shinra corporate offices, walk up floor by floor, assassinating the most heavily guarded man on the Planet and a thousand of the company's finest SOLDIERs at one go? Who else had the power to send forth the WEAPONs to destroy the seat of Shinra power, to summon the planet killer for the sole purpose of destroying his former employer and extinguishing completely the Shinra Electric Power Company?

This was a man who was stronger than all the members of AVALANCHE combined and squared and multiplied to the power of a thousand; he was a killing machine colder than even the white titanium prison he had been forced into! AVALANCHE may have defeated the silver - haired warrior, but he had returned, and from what Reno had said, calmer, deadlier, in ever greater possession of his faculties! And he had to face him! He had to defeat him or be doomed again to eternal obscurity! And this he could not accept! But… he had to fight the great Sephiroth!

Rufus hurriedly pushed a button on the chest plastron, pressing it repeatedly like a kid trying to make his video game character attack as quickly as possible, and the valve in his suit began to operate, draining the liquid away into the waste canister. He cursed as an alarm sounded, telling him that the metal receptacle was almost full, that his medical staff had to replace it again. He never had to rely on others like this! He was like a cripple in a wheelchair, unable to even wear his clothes or bathe without someone else aiding him! And Sephiroth absolutely had to demonstrate his superiority over him in such a despicable manner!

But he did not care so much about his helplessness, not this time. Why had he thrown up this time? He had never felt that way before except during the time he had been on the ship to Junon, though he had seen it many times on the faces of those whom he ruled. All the enemies he had faced so far had been well within his means. Cloud and his confederates were but enemies made of flesh and blood, easily handled, but what of this demon to whom death itself could not hold sway over?

How could one defeat a creature of myth?

His arms clawed at the tempered glass casing fitted around his head. He could hear his monotonous whimper of helplessness. He found the floor rushing towards him amidst the clank and clatter of metal components obeying his haywire mind. And like the child who was hoping against hope that his super attack would activate if he kept mashing the same button over and over again, he prayed that the narcotics would come into play, and give him what little shelter from the hurricane that was drowning his consciousness. His world was fast dissolving into a whirling wheel of colours, a rainbow spinning faster and faster and faster, traversing the entire spectrum hundreds and thousands of times until the intense whiteness of unutterable agony consumed him.

And the pain stopped, just as he felt that it was about to kill him. But this attack, just like the last, had supplied him with clarity, and now he saw an answer.

That Hojo, for all the trouble he had given Shinra, had provided him with an answer, and like a sleeping giant, it lay dormant, deep within the Stygian pits of his fortress, a secret privy to only a few others apart from himself. This was the secret to absolute power. He could use it, and even Sephiroth would have to bend his knee in abject servility. He only had to take hold of it, and the Planet would be within his grasp, and much, much more… even what lay beyond those stars…

Did he dare to take it? Which was the lesser of the two evils? What would happen to him if he accepted this gift? Would he endure a fate worse than this existence as a lowly cyborg? He did not know. Worst of all… would he become a slave? A puppet? A mere mouthpiece? And after everything that had transpired, after all his struggles to attain and retain the Presidency that he had waited for over twenty years… twenty years of enforced isolation from the universe… twenty years of virtual nonexistence in a diving bell! He might possess powers greater than even the Great Sephiroth, but at what cost?

The acidic, foodless, Mako - laced fluid sloshed out of his buccal cavity again. Once more his fingers abused the control panel as he called out repeatedly for his doctors.

The space around him suddenly became very lively with sawdust, powdered glass and metal fragments as his iron lungs worked overtime, hurriedly drawing air into their filtered intakes. As his eyes could not close, his hands shrouded his head as he tried to begin the rationalisation process.

Fortunately, he did not have to make this choice now, and if everything went well, he would not have to make it at all. But still, was he _really _capable of defeating Sephiroth by himself? The line between legitimate expectations and wishful thinking had been blurred. He wanted to answer that question in the affirmative, but what if he really couldn't beat that silver - maned seraphim? Would there be nothing to cling to if he were to open his eyes by just a crack? He did not know, and he did not want to know. But in spite of it all, one thing was absolutely certain… he would call no man his master.

This was a cat's cradle he did not want to venture into right now. Things were still very much within his control. Now, he had to implement a new plan, and already he had something fermenting within this bloody bubbling stew, the remnants of his mind.

To Nibelheim Sephiroth would come… he would make sure that the white haired man would make the journey. And if the traitor did arrive at all, the heavy hand of Rufus Shinra's authority would fall upon him with full force.

And where the Turks had failed him, the vindicators, these men of numbers, would make good their blunders.

_Author's Notes:_

_Thanks everybody, for waiting so very long! Whoa, it's been like… almost 9 months? I was losing interest for quite a long while… just had other things to do, like studying, playing FFX and Kingdom Hearts, among other things… but I could not rest easy knowing about those who still waited for the elusive next update… like waiting for Yuffie's father, I'd say. Wish I had someone like Jiminy Cricket who would become the keeper of my conscience… then I could do anything I wanted). Thanks for all the mails asking me to go on! I hope I can keep this up… it would really be bad if I were to upload one chapter every few months…_

_My first sentence came from a poem from Poe, if I'm not wrong. "Lo! Death has reared himself in a strange city." Raymond E. Feist used this verse to open his book, _A Darkness at Sethanon_, and I found it quite cool, so you now see a modified version of Poe's line. _

_Don't you love the reference to Sin? He's probably one of the coolest villains after Sephy. Don't worry, the big fish won't be making a splash in this story… but you never know who else might)…_

_I loved Exosquad when I was younger (and I still do now), and I've had the idea of a crippled villain dressed up like Phaeton running around in my head for a long while, and I thought, well, Rufus could do it nicely, after his close encounter with Diamond WEAPON. Rufus has it a little worse here, but at least he won't turn into a gooey blue puddle…_

_Even though FFVII was a dead serious game, it did have its light moments. Who wouldn't want to give our lard eating Palmer a good kick in the derriere once more? Lard in your tea… unimaginable. Grossness._

_Finally, about the reference to a kid playing the video game… kinda reminds you of FFVIII, hmm? FFVIII had the best limit break system of the entire series. It was very easy to use, unlike FFX. Just bring your HP down to the yellow zone, or cast Aura, mash Triangle until you hear that welcome chime, and do a Lionheart or cast Degenerator (this was one reason why Quistis was one of my fave characters, apart from her cool, professional demeanor)! The system was easily abused, yes, but it had its advantages. No need to wander aimlessly killing some minnows or allowing yourself to get hit to see that silly bar fill up mm by mm. FFX had Entrust, yes, but you still have to do the donkey work to fill up the contributor's Overdrive gauge. At any rate, I looooooove mashing buttons… and you have to do a lot of it, especially in Kingdom Hearts). Time to get X replaced. _

_And once again, thanks everyone for waiting!!!_


	17. Chapter 17: Getting Off Second Gear

_CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: GETTING OFF SECOND GEAR_

Fenrir purred expectantly, waiting for its rider's next command. But it was only given a very simple order – to go to sleep. One turn of the key, and the monstrous motorcycle drew its last heavy breath.

Cloud removed his goggles, putting them on the handlebars. Another morning, another delivery completed. The greatest hero of the Jenova War had now become a humble postman. But even heroes needed to have a day job when they weren't out saving the Planet. Tifa had rebuilt her Final Heaven pub. He had set up Strife Delivery Services, a little security and transport company.

He stepped into Elmyra's house, leaving his boots at the doorstep. With the exception of Vincent, who had left for Nibelheim, and Cait, who was on a "secret mission" of his own, everyone else from AVALANCHE was here. They were supposed to have gone their separate ways a week ago, but then the Turks had come. They had stayed behind afterwards to repair the house (even Yuffie, who admittedly had to be press – ganged into service), and within a few days, the house was as good as new.

Tifa and Aerith were in the kitchen, preparing lunch. Barret was upstairs, carrying out some renovation works. Cid was in the hall, reading the papers, adding to the mountain of cigarette butts in the ashtray, and Red was just, well, sleeping away. Yuffie had left the house early this morning, supposedly to try out her skills on some unsuspecting Kalm Fangs, but more likely, to cause the equally unsuspecting shopkeepers a lot of grief.

Life had returned to normal. At least, for a little while. But this couldn't last for very long. Shinra was still in business, and sooner or later, it would have to be stopped. But right now, all he wanted to have was a beer.

Cloud was quickly greeted by the delightful smell of battered chicken frying away in the pan. But they would not be eating meat this time, not when Aerith was in charge of the cooking. A vegetarian would have no qualms about eating anything she prepared. But at the same time, even an obligatory carnivore would be hard – pressed to tell that what he was eating was not the real thing. She could work wonders with _seitan _or gluten meat like no other.

Tifa was waiting for him at the kitchen doorway, dangling a can of Zolom before him. "Looking for this, Cloud?" She tossed the beer to him.

"You bet it." He pulled off the ring and swallowed a mouthful of the bitter brew. "I never knew that repairing ATMs was part of my job description. Wasn't I just supposed to deliver the cash boxes?"

The pub owner grinned. "We're superheroes, remember? We're supposed to be capable of doing anything and everything. So what did you do in the end?"

"I just gave it a good kick. Cid always does that whenever he can't fix something. And guess what, that machine actually started working again."

The new couple's work – related conversation was interrupted by a long, hard knock on the door.

"Leave the cooking to me, Aerith. I can't let you get away with doing all the work!" Tifa told her, "Oh, and if it's the Turks, tell them that they're finally starting to learn some manners."

Tifa need not have worried. There were no blue – suited spies waiting at the door, but just a tall, fair – haired boy.

"Morning, Denzel! How are you today?"

"Right now, I'm thinking of getting a new job. Passed a message to a really creepy guy living at the inn. I just said hello to him, and he looked at me as if he was gonna eat me for breakfast. I'm not getting enough hazard pay!" the boy complained.

Aerith smiled. "Oh! He's Sephiroth, and he's harmless. He just looks at everybody like that, but he doesn't really mean it."

"Anyway, is Marlene back yet? I wanna show her a few funky moves I learnt!" Denzel showed her a skateboard called the Twilight Town Grinder. Besides being a source of endless fun for children and teenagers, and an endless source of annoyance to adults and the elderly, the skateboard also served as an efficient and convenient method of conveyance in large urban areas, allowing delivery boys like him to send out all of their letters and parcels in record time, racking up the gil swiftly.

The Ancient looked at the grandfather clock in the hall. "She'll be quite late today, since she has a few things to do after school, so why not have lunch with us in the meantime?"

Denzel rested his chin on the skateboard, considering her suggestion. "Nah, I think I'll paste a few posters while waiting for her. There's going to be a really cool event called "the Struggle", and I'm the one who's going to put up all the ads! Why don't you take part? We're tired of seeing the same old guys beating each other up!"

The flower girl laughed. "I'm not very good at games. Gardening's a much more relaxing hobby. Hmmm… hang on a second, will you?" She headed into the kitchen, reappearing shortly with a round container in her hands. "A little something just in case you get hungry along the way."

The boy cracked open the lid, and his eyes went wide as he saw what was inside the lunchbox. "Wow! Thanks, Aerith! That'll make my day!" He tucked the package into his satchel and hopped onto the skateboard. "See ya later, Aerith!" With a flick of his foot, he was gone.

Aerith closed the door. At that moment, Cid snorted, spitting out the remains of his latest cigarette, adding a fiery, smoking peak to the ever – growing mountain of ash. The source of his indignation screamed in bold black print, "Heidegger and Scarlet found guilty of crimes against humanity, to get life without parole."

"Hmph! Too bad they don't execute people anymore, like the bad ol' days! Let's see if these #+/& will still say "Gya ha ha" or "Kya ha ha" when they meet a Dueling Griffon face to face!"

Aerith frowned, emptying the contents of the ashtray, defusing the man – made crisis before it threatened to overflow and cover the entire coffee table with hot, impotent ash. "I think it's better that way. No one ever deserves to die, Cid, no matter what they've done in the past."

Cid snorted, crushing his newspaper and tossing it away. "Oh, I knew you'd say that! Yeah, why don't we forget that these &#!? killed thousands of people and ruined even more lives? And while we're at it, why don't we tell these guys that they can do what they $λ≠ want, and we'll just toss them into the slammer when they're done, rather than giving them some real punishment?"

"Cid, don't you think there's been enough suffering in this world already? If we want all these terrible things to end, we should start treating everyone else a little better – even those whom we really don't like. Killing them won't make our lives any easier to bear, forgiving them will."

The airship pilot gave the Cetra a hard look. "You're saying all that just because you like that genocidal maniac, and you don't want us to #!)¶ him, right? You're too nice for your own good, girl. If I were you, I'd take that rod of yours, and stick it high up his ¥ tailpipe!"

Aerith shook her head in denial. "We're not an item, so don't get any ideas! He's trying very hard to be a good guy now, why not give him a break?" But the slightest hint of colour had crept into her cheeks. "Well, I'll talk to you later about this. I've got to get back to the cooking." The girl hurried back into the kitchen.

It was not long before lunch was ready. Cid gave Red a kick in the rump, while Barret lumbered down the stairs with a grunt. Attached to the large man's arm socket was a huge array of tools, from a circular saw to a power drill, and even a welding iron. He pushed a button, detaching his toolkit – arm and replacing it with an artificial hand more suitable for grasping a fork or spoon.

Tifa and Aerith placed several huge bowls on the dining table. Wutaian food was on the menu today – chicken katsu don! Everyone quickly took their places, so green were the peas, so fresh was the egg, so sweet was the short – grained rice, so light and crispy were the (mock) chicken cutlets. Everyone immediately started tucking in, except for the Ancient, who picked up the telephone, dialing a number.

The front door suddenly slammed open. Yuffie had returned, holding a large metal chest under one arm, grinning from ear to ear. Clearly, she had been up to no good again. "Hey! How come no one told me that lunch was ready?"

"You're just in time," Aerith reassured her, "In fact, I was just about to call you." However, the princess had already forgotten that perceived slight, rushing to the table, preparing to make short work of her meal.

Today's lunchtime conversation centered around one of their absent friends.

"Too bad Reeve can't eat with us more often," Tifa noted, "We don't even see much of Cait Sith nowadays."

"There's not much we can do, I'm afraid," Red replied, "Ruling half the world isn't easy. But I wonder if he's taking his responsibilities too seriously. He spends virtually all of his waking hours in the office."

Reeve, formerly a Shinra director, had been recently elected as Commissioner of the World Regenesis Organisation, a new democratic government set up to replace the power vacuum caused by Shinra's destruction. Now, he was entrusted with the task of managing the numerous towns and cities under the WRO's protection, while trying to develop an ecologically – friendly solution to Mako power. Nowadays, whenever he spoke with his former comrades, it was strictly about business.

"That's why I said 'no' when Reeve asked me to become mayor of Nibelheim," Cloud added, "I like the carefree life a little bit too much. Besides, I have too many bad memories of that place. But your job doesn't seem too hard, Cid."

"You're kidding me, right? Running a town and being admiral of the fleet ain't like dusting crops, kid! I wonder how that guy can deal with all that #(! everyday!" Cid lit up yet another Malboro cigarette, eager to distract himself from thoughts about his working life.

And what was happening across the table? Apart from Aerith, no one would willingly sit with Yuffie when it came to mealtimes; even after years of being schooled by the greatest masters in the fine art of deportment and the subtler points of being a proper Wutaian woman, everybody agreed that her table manners were unbecoming of a descendent of a great and ancient house. She did not gobble her food like a barbarian, nor did she fool around with her cutlery or make loud noises when eating; but her behaviour at the dining table was just as reprehensible as her kleptomaniac habits.

One of Aerith's peas rolled away from her bowl, but it was not fated to travel very far; the wayward vegetable soon found that its great little escape was doomed to failure, and it was promptly speared on a fork and sent to its final destination. A little piece of egg quivered in protest as it was deported from its rightful place, transferred to an unfamiliar region, across the wide, checkered expanse of the dining table.

"Ah, yes… fullness!" Yuffie sighed contentedly, leaning back in her chair. Aerith merely smiled. She never had any leftovers whenever Yuffie dined with her.

Cloud suddenly heard a familiar tune begin to play… it was the same song Tifa used to play on the piano when she was younger, and it was in the sheet music for this melody that Zangan, her former martial arts instructor, had hidden a secret manual that had taught her the Final Heaven limit break. But Tifa was not on the piano this time. A persistent tingling in his pocket alerted him to the source of the music. It was his PHS, and it was playing a preset ring tone to alert its owner to an incoming call.

This PHS was a very new model, called the FOMA P900iv. Unlike the older phones he had previously used, this was not a brick with buttons on it, but a sleek black and silver gadget tiny enough to fit into a child's hand.

Taking the still - vibrating mobile phone out of his pocket, he flipped it open to answer the call, and was surprised to see the name of the caller on the LCD display. Holding the PHS to his ear, he listened intently for several minutes while the others looked on, and they did not fail to notice that as the call went on, he had begun to square his shoulders and narrow his eyes, staring very hard into the distance.

He rotated the clamshell lid on its hinge, until the display screen lay on its side for easy viewing. Whoever had called him had sent him a video recording, and now he was playing it back on the PHS. Another minute went by with the caller's voice speaking softly to Cloud.

"I think everyone should look at this," he finally announced. Now he had to connect the phone to the TV, so that he could play the MMS he had received. But how was he supposed to do it? He began to look around the cabinets, hoping to find the dark corner to which he had banished the box and the instruction manual for his phone. But all he found were some scuttling spiders, distraught at their hiding place being discovered. Everyone else had moved to the living room, leaving their empty bowls behind. They were all waiting for him. The mercenary groaned inwardly. Performing an Omnislash was easier than rigging that phone up on the television.

Cid clucked his tongue somewhat condescendingly, and started to explain how to connect the device. With every word he spoke, the living room became more and more polluted with inky puffs of second – hand smoke.

"Pah! What's the ₤+($ problem? If you don't know jack shit about connecting these &(# things, leave it to the professionals! This one goes here, and that one goes there! Even that #(§ little pest can do it, ya know!"

"Hey!! Listen here, old freak, I'm not a '#(§ pest'! I'm Yuffie Kisaragi, the greatest ninja of all time, the White Rose of Wutai, descended from none other than Rikku the Dancing Queen!"

Reeve had given the new PHS to him only very recently, and Cloud had not quite completely understood all of its functions. But he was lagging quite far behind already; the younger Yuffie knew practically everything about that phone by heart, and Cid (who had (finally) married a rocket scientist) took immense pleasure in pointing out his lack of savvy when it came to new technology.

Despite the heated exchange between Yuffie and the ageing pilot, Cloud managed to hook up his 3G phone to the telly. MMS was still a rather new thing, and the video they saw on the small screen was grainy and somewhat pixilated, but it was clear enough for them to notice what was going on.

"Cloud, the situation's gotten worse since I left town. More people have gone missing at Mount Nibel. Everyone in Nibelheim is getting nervous. They're barricading themselves in their houses.

"Only one person managed to survive those attacks. Before he died, he told me that some grey – skinned humans ambushed him. They were tall and thin, with long claws – just like the Mako monsters you described to me.

"Those creatures didn't just manage to escape from the reactor core – they were set free, probably by the same people who restarted that reactor."

As he spoke, they could see him looking away from time to time, as if he was worried about being ambushed in the middle of his monologue.

"I saw a man in the foothills about an hour ago. He was with a group of the Mako monsters, and they appeared to be taking instructions from him. That man had silver hair, and he was dressed in a black cloak. I believe he was a Sephiroth-clone, one who survived the Reunion.

"I'm going to enter the reactor right now and see if I can find him. I have a very bad feeling about this –"

The camera suddenly panned upwards, letting its audience have a good view of the gray, cloudy sky. The speakers trembled as a loud braying noise echoed throughout the room, followed by the thunderous bark of Cerberus. A large clawed foot filled the screen, and there was nothing left but static…

But the static quickly resolved itself into the face of a careworn, middle-aged man dressed in a blue trench coat, sporting a tiny goatee.

"Cloud, are you there?"

"Right here, Reeve."

The WRO commissioner heaved a sigh of relief. "As you might've guessed, something's happened to Vincent. It's been two days since he left for the Nibel reactor, and we're getting really worried. Bigieu sent out a search party a few hours ago, and they found a lot of dead Mako monsters, and Vincent's phone… but no trace of him."

"Vincent? I don't think those creatures would've gotten the better of him. But that silver – haired man sounds suspicious. Another Sephiroth – clone…" Cloud frowned.

"Well, I'll need your help on this one, Cloud. Right now, I've got my plate full. What's happening at Nibelheim isn't an isolated incident. I've gotten reports of people vanishing from Midgar, the Edge and even Junon. Some of them later turned up dead, and there wasn't anything recognisable left of them. It's all I can do to prevent a mass panic from breaking out."

"Fine. I guess I'll have to go back to my old stomping grounds and dig him up again. Time for a little traveling."

"Yo, mush! Aren't ya forgetting somethin'?" Barret interjected, shaking his metal fist at the TV. "Don't forget my Marlene and the little ol' lady here! You want 'em to get mauled like the others?"

"Don't worry, Barret, I'll be sending two companies over to make sure that nothing like that happens. Just get over there and see if Vincent's all right."

"These little boys n' girls of yours? They'd piss their pants and cry for mama if they even see a fraggin' Shinra guard dancin' in the buff!"

Cloud looked at the house, reminded by the fresh paint and shiny new marble tiles of the carnage that had recently occurred. "All right then. Barret, you can stay put. Kalm will need you if anything happens, and I wouldn't be surprised if Shinra comes back here. The rest of us will go to Nibelheim." Seeing nods of approval from everyone else, he turned back to the television.

"It's settled, then. Reeve, thanks for the heads up."

"Will do, Cloud. Keep in touch." The image of the WRO commissioner disappeared, replaced by the FOMA's digital display, showing everybody Cloud's new mobile phone wallpaper – a portrait of the legendary guardian spirit Fenrir.

"Get the Highwind ready, Cid. We've got a quest to begin."

"What the $ + do you mean, get the Highwind ready? The Highwind's ALWAYS ready!" Cid thundered.

"OK, everybody, get packing! Meet up at the Highwind at seven." He watched Cid, Red and Yuffie leave the house, while Barret went upstairs to continue his repair works. He then noticed that someone had disappeared... yet again.

"Where's Aerith?"

"Gone to get a friend of hers. She said we'd need his help," Tifa replied, looking as if she'd just sucked a lemon dry.

"A friend, huh? Not _that _friend, I hope." Cloud gave her an equally sour look.

All paths led to Midgar. All roads stemmed from Midgar. Dark, gloomy, seedy, the megalopolis had been one giant monument to the mechanical age, a reminder of an industrial revolution that had traded its vigour for stagnation. Meteor had come, and laid waste to Midgar. A new age had just started. The old days had come back. This was an age where man would return to live with the Planet, where machines, or to use the ancient term _machina_, would once more be mastered by man rather than be his master. The leaf had been turned over to a more chthonic age.

Despite all that had happened, this former megalopolis had never ceased to attract visitors, savoury or otherwise, even in more modern times, even today, never mind the unceasing rain which had turned the remnants of the city into a toxic muddy metallic soup. After all, Midgar was the place where all journeys started, the place where dreams came alive. Every epic and heroic adventure always involved this city in one way or another.

Now, someone had returned to the unholy city, driven by his own quest. He was heading to the heart of the dead beast, the Babel that had been the Shinra Electric Power Company's headquarters. What he sought resided not in any of the sixty – odd stories of this edifice of hubris, but deep below the deadened land, in a forgotten part of the Planet, populated by the wretched of the earth, those whom the world had been so quick to bury.

He entered the Shinra building from the front, through the only entrance that was still open. The doors, made from exotic hardwoods, fitted with gold and platinum decorations, had been stripped away long ago by men who desperately needed money. The once opulent reception hall, with its velvet – upholstered chairs and plasma projection screens trumpeting Shinra's ever – increasing profit margins, and the showrooms which displayed the company's latest makes of Mako – powered cars and motorcycles, had long been looted clean, replaced with cigarette butts, discarded syringes, rotting food and human waste.

He strode quickly through the hall, the vagrants who sought refuge in the ruins running from him like terrified rats. At least the lifts on the mezzanine floor were still working. Amazingly enough, they could still go up, but not to the top stories, which had been destroyed by Diamond Weapon. But they could also go down… if you used the proper key.

The journey itself took a full ten minutes, as the lift plummeted thousands of feet, past the Upper Plate, past the slums, and finally, through layers and layers of rock and reinforced concrete, towards what even the Shinra directors would not dare to discuss save with hushed whispers. Towards the MD Level. Not even the former President knew this little shortcut. He too had to use a series of cargo lifts, enter a converted train station, and pass through a deserted sector of the undercity before being able to access this floor.

With a satisfying chime, and the failing of the flickering light, the lift doors opened up into deep space. However, the monotony of darkness was quickly broken by a constellation of angry red pyreflies, covering every part of the visitor's body, as if a great plague had suddenly afflicted him. Granted, this phenomenon was anything but naturally occurring, but it meant that he was just a few steps away from the full realisation of his very existence.

"I come to cleanse this land."

The pyreflies, hearing the passphrase, disappeared one by one, leaving him alone to the darkness once more… that was, until the lights came on.

"Hail Weiss!"

An officer, dressed in a gray cloak, spoke for the assembled men. "Welcome back, commander. Deepground Company Ohka awaiting orders." The DG troopers shouldered their weapons, and as one, saluted the visitor.

A crooked, wolfish grin crept up the visitor's face. "Bring me to the DTD!" he commanded. The officer bowed. Weiss had instructed all of them to obey every command from this man as if he himself had ordered it. And whatever Weiss ordered, they would follow without question.

The officer led him down passageway after passageway, each made of the same darkened metal panels, wide enough only for two small men to walk abreast, lit only by a series of tiny bulbs turned to their dimmest settings. Several shadows seemed to glide past them, recognizable only as human from the luminous blue stripes on their armour. It was not long, however, before they reached the end of the tunnel complex.

He stood before the threshold of nirvana, the gateway to ascension. This door had no handle. This door had no keyhole. It was the door to darkness. How would he open this strange door? Only a special key could open it. His heart alone would unlock its secrets. And once this door was opened, that which lay within would never be sealed away again…

"Memory of Xehanort."

Once more the visitor stared into the void itself. He had sought the darkness, and he had descended into it. He had been there for goodness knows how long, with no reason nor rhyme for his wanderings. But he had seen his light on the far side, and he had had resolved to seek out the dawn, to find the core of the worlds which constituted his universe, his heart of hearts.

This room had been Hojo's private vault, a secret place that no one, not even he, the Professor's protégé, the magician's nephew, had known of. Indeed, if not for the scientist's assimilation with Jenova's consciousness, this place would have remained a secret for all time.

He looked at the stacks of arch files strewn all over the floor. These were the true records of all of Hojo's experiments with the Jenova cells. Sephiroth, Cloud, Zack, and a slew of other people, including the visitor himself – their files were all there. The copies kept in the Science Department network, and in the President's safe, were nothing but clever forgeries.

The visitor went towards a large freezer, which had faithfully thrummed away all this time. He opened the lid, and with his bare hands, removed a tiny phial stored within its chilly recesses. This had been the end result of the Star Scar Project – a biological weapon composed of Jenova cells, a lesser version of the great plague that had brought the Cetra low millennia ago. However, things had changed. Geostigma, potent as it was, would no longer be needed.

Replacing the phial, he looked around the large room once more. In a bell jar was a disembodied arm, cut off just below the elbow, immersed in slimy – looking preservative fluid. A sticky note with a rather quirky message was attached to the jar. "I hope you don't mind me making some… special modifications to your award-winning experiment! Hahahahahahaha!"

On the floor was a finely – woven carpet, a warm chestnut brown in colour, incredibly soft to the touch. He flipped the carpet over, finding another sticky note. "Such a pity! I was looking forward to many more happy years with you and your little hybrid!"

All these little curiosities were no doubt fascinating and worth studying in greater detail, but what he was searching for was nowhere to be found. After all, Hojo was ever-paranoid, forever worried about someone else stealing his precious research. He wouldn't have made things easy for his rivals.

But Hojo had surpassed himself this time. Most people would have expected his greatest treasure placed inside the eye of a needle, concealed within an egg, secreted within a duck, which was inside a hare's belly, the hare being locked in an iron chest, buried at the foot of a great tree on the Island Closest to Hell.

However, the mad scientist had simply hidden it in plain sight – in a large cardboard shipping box marked "Test Tubes". The visitor almost ripped open the box, hurriedly pulling out handfuls of styrofoam peanuts and plastic bubble wrap, throwing aside the racks of test tubes inside, until he came across a briefcase made of silvered metal.

Like the door, the container had no latches and no locks. Like the door, it was password-protected. But he knew the password. Hojo had always prided himself for being an inscrutable keeper of secrets, learning everything, giving nothing in return, speaking in riddles, every word meant to mislead his rivals. But he had given up the knowledge that he had most jealously guarded, the things that mattered the most to him, and in such a straightforward manner too.

Hojo had adamantly refused to share any of his secrets with him. Now he knew everything the dead man knew, thanks to just a few words spoken into the mad scientist's ear, and one simple injection. What irony.

"Birth by sleep."

The briefcase clicked open, and blinding light flooded the visitor's face. He put on a pair of gloves, gently removing a black box from the briefcase, careful not to do it the slightest violence. His anxious eyes ran many times over the yellow tape seals that secured it, until he was absolutely confident that his treasure was intact. He crooned at it, stroking it tenderly. A florescent tear streaked down its cold, shining surface.

"Mother! _Mother!_ Oh! Oh, oh…oh…!"

He had found his light at last. His heart. He was an empty shell no longer. Now he would be a complete being.

It was many hours later before the cloaked figure departed the Shinra building, riding a black – armoured motorcycle, one hand on the handlebars, the other holding the black box close to his heart.

However, the visitor's departure had not gone unnoticed. From the waist – deep swamp rose a man in a drysuit, a pair of field glasses in hand. Stepping onto an island of twisted girders and concrete slabs, he unzipped his drysuit, careful not to let any of the murky water splatter onto his black designer jacket and dragon leather shoes. He began to comb and gel his hair, making sure it fell over his shoulders in just the right way. As he finished grooming himself, the scenery behind him seemed to shimmer slightly, before suddenly turning opaque, revealing a shadowy mechanical beast. No sooner had he disappeared into its belly, did it become one with the concrete jungle again. With no more noise than the whirring of a hummingbird's wings, the _Tiamat, _the newest and most stylish of attack helicopters, was gone.

It was time for him to come back from the dead too.

_Author's Notes:_

_How long has it been since the last update? My last update was 10 Mar 04. A lot of things have happened in the FFVII universe since then. I lost interest in this work for quite a few years, and was never really motivated into continuing things until lately. But for those of you who've read my stuff from the beginning, thank you for your faith ). I hope you like this chapter. It's been a very long time coming! _


	18. Chapter 18: Crash

_CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: CRASH_

"C – C – Captain on the bridge!" the guard announced. The bridge crew jumped to their collective feet, accompanied by the sounds of flight manuals, navigational charts, chocolate bars and coffee mugs crashing onto the wooden deck.

"At ease!" Cid snapped off a quick salute. He addressed the three sprightly young women manning the control stations, "Gimme a status report!"

"Erm… flight control and propulsion systems all check out, sir!" Kim replied, after several frantic glances at the displays in front of her.

Several seconds passed before the next reply came. "Refueling operations complete, Mako batteries at maximum charge, auxiliary power units functional," Van added on, managing to call up the required information just in time.

There was another long pause. "All crewmembers and passengers accounted for and at takeoff stations, sir," Sam completed their report, running back to her post after a quick conference with the door guard.

The pilot shook his head. "What's this &#&? My great – grandmother could've taken this ship to thirty thousand feet long before you could open your traps! You just try and take your own sweet time in the middle of a scramble when everything's being bombed to bits around you!"

His glare was met by the sheepish, hangdog expressions on their faces. He shook his head. "Oh, never mind! We're taking off in five minutes, so don't screw it up this time, kids, or I'll have your µ & for a midnight snack!" The airship pilot took his own position at the ship's wheel. He reached for his pack of Malboro Extra Longs.

"Permission to speak, sir?"

"Munch yer request!" he barked, flicking open his lighter, pausing to admire the masterly carved engraving of a nearly naked woman on its enamel surface.

"You can't smoke on the bridge, sir! It's against aircrew standing orders!" Sam pointed out.

"Whaddya know about the regs, kiddo? I'll tell you what the #& rules are on my ship! Rule number one: the Captain is always right. Rule number two: if the Captain is wrong, refer to rule number one. Rule number three: always laugh at the Captain's jokes!" Cid corrected her swiftly.

The old pilot snarled, crushing the cigarette in his hand, "These young 'uns will be the death of me!"

Ever since the Jenova War ended, almost all of his original crewmembers, Wutai vets like him, had left his ship, going on to become captains in their own right. Reeve had been kind enough to assign additional airmen to the _Highwind_. But Cid was starting to wonder whether that was more a curse than a blessing.

These crewmen, young and enthusiastic as they were, had been assigned to his ship after only one month of basic training, so desperate was the WRO's need for personnel to staff its new air force. Each of them had, on average, only about two or three flying hours. None of them could go solo anytime soon. But what could he do? Skilled airship pilots were at a premium already, with the recent boom in the civil aviation sector. He was lucky that he wasn't flying this ship by himself. Well, these youngsters would have to learn the fine art of flying the hard way. Hopefully, he'd still be alive by the time he was through with them.

The dragoon sucked deeply on his cigarette, drawing in the unfiltered smoke, trying to enjoy its mild narcotic effect. This was not one of his better days, and he really needed a good smoke to make up for it.

Why had he allowed that horrible man to board his ship? The last time that happened, two – thirds of his ship's company had died… of food poisoning, according to the official report from the Shinra HR Department! What a cover – up! But the Ancient had simply smiled at him, and asked very nicely… and he had just given in. That was it. He wasn't the sort to give in without a fight, not even to Shera, but why did he say "yes" to her so easily?

Well, if anything happened this time (even to those dimwits who were tripping over themselves trying to run his ship), he'd personally kick that &!$ over the side, even if the girl were to promise to give him a reach around every day for the rest of his life.

Cid thumbed the crew intercom switch. "Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking! Strap yourselves in and hold on to your pants, this bird's gonna soar!" He looked at his bridge crew, who were waiting expectantly for his next order. "Retract landing gear!"

The whirr of heavy hydraulics followed, as the mooring lines detached themselves from the bollards on the ground, winding themselves back into their storage compartments on the ship. A chime confirmed that the landing gear had been properly stowed. At least the new crewmen knew what buttons to push.

Cid pushed the starter button. The batteries did their trick, the Mako flowing into the engines, lighting up the jet fuel inside the combustion chamber. He could hear them rumble to life, feel them vibrate with power. He could almost taste the jet fuel being consumed to give his ship thrust. He opened the throttle, feeding fuel and air to the hungry engines, grinning as the ship, free of all restraints, surged forward into the evening sky.

"Yee – ha!" Cid yodeled, as he switched to full throttle, pulling back hard on the wheel / steering yoke, taking the _Highwind_ into a steep climb. The little town rapidly shrunk beneath them. The clouds surged forward to meet them. Flights of birds scattered away in awe of the power of the true king of the skies. This was what he was born for!

"Warning: unsafe flying will void your warranty."

"All right, who the hell had this wonderful idea to install this talking piece of junk?" he questioned.

"You told us to upgrade the nav computer, sir. You said you wanted a female voice," Kim replied, desperately holding onto the edge of her seat.

"I meant a SEXYfemale voice! Not that &#§! Bitchin' Betty!" The "bridge bunnies" had so much more to learn about their captain's sparkling personality.

The _Highwind_ quickly reached cruising altitude. Cid eased up on the throttle, letting the ship fly straight and level. "Seatbelts off, boys and girls. Enjoy the scenery while you can! If this tail wind keeps up, we'll be at Nibelheim by ten!" the pilot announced. Almost immediately, another chime sounded. A quick glance at the command console indicated that someone was now using the heads.

"Come on, don't you wanna enjoy the view? Switch that autopilot on," he told his crew.

He relaxed his hold on the wheel, watching his ship break new ground, the clouds an airy cushion beneath them. All around the sky was peaceful and empty, an endless rose – coloured expanse, warmed by the rapidly setting sun. Not even these wet – behind – the – ears crew members could spoil his day this time, with a view like this.

"Time for another smoke."

♥♥♥♥♥

The flower girl looked out the viewport, watching life pass her by.

Aerith had always wondered what things looked up high up in the heavens, how it was like to be flying just like a bird. She had never seen the sky until she left Midgar, save for a ray of daylight or two, living beneath the heaviness of the Plate. When she was at Junon, she had only enough time for a brief glimpse at the _Highwind_, before she was forced to escape into the inner city. That one look was good enough for her. Like a child biding his time before his birthday, she knew that she would take to the skies one day.

Now, this dream had been fulfilled. She was flying on the _Highwind_. Of course, she was happy. But she knew she could've been happier. She had no one to share her happiness with.

Or was there? Well, there _was_ someone else around here who might excite her interest… _if _he was willing to accept.

Well, where was the man anyway? The lower deck was sealed off, the doors refusing to open this high up in the air. He wasn't in the cockpit, neither was he in the war room or the stables. He certainly wasn't using the toilets, because she could hear Yuffie vomiting inside.

She finally found him alone in the crew cabins, lying down on a bed, staring at the ceiling, looking as if he wanted to be somewhere else instead.

"Hmph!?"

She squatted down beside him. How was she to start? Pick – up lines were mainly designed with guys in mind, rather than girls. She couldn't think of anything that didn't sound cheesy.

"Thanks for joining us, Sephiroth, " she opened the conversation. "I'm glad you came with me," She quickly added. Well, that was pretty lame. She'd thought that it would be an uphill struggle persuading him to join her on this trip. Surprisingly, however, she did not even have to open her mouth to get him to go. He simply came. That was all.

"I didn't do this for your sake." He threw aside the sheets, getting off the bed. He pushed Aerith aside, reaching for the door, wanting to get out of her sight.

He walked briskly along the main corridor, trying to find a place where he wouldn't have to set eyes on her. But the girl wouldn't give up so easily.

Aerith looked straight into his eyes, reaching out carefully, running her fingers across the high wall that blocked off his soul from the rest of the world. But Sephiroth was a man whose passions would often run high, like savage breakers crashing against a seawall, wearing it down slowly, and she soon found a tiny crack in the dyke, just enough for her to take a little peek inside… to have a glimpse of the real Sephiroth.

_Saevam iram, iram et dolorem…_

_Saevam iram, iram et dolorem…_

_Sephiroth! _

_Sephiroth!_

Aerith lowered her eyes, rubbing away a tear as his emotions swept over her.

But this contact, this meeting of hearts, was all too brief, as she suddenly found herself shaken back and forth, struggling for breath as two large hands crushed her throat.

Sephiroth let go of her just as abruptly as he had seized her, and she found herself on the floor, in a daze. He quickly hid his hands in the pockets of his coat. A minute or two passed in silence.

"Don't _ever _do that to me!" he finally said.

"Such anger… such ferocity… such pain…" Aerith shook her head, "Your memories… they seek violent release, they're consuming you…" She stretched out her hands. "Let me heal you!" she pleaded.

"You can't do anything! You weren't there when I was made to suffer! You don't understand anything about my pain! You know nothing about my misery! No one ever will! Don't pretend to be able to help! No one can!"

"You won't know until you try, and those who never try will never know! Just let me help you."

"I won't let you! Who do you think you are? My mother? My auntie? I don't even know you! Just leave me alone!" Sephiroth yelled.

He glanced furtively at the exit door. If only he could open it and get himself blown out of the ship! He'd probably die and go back into limbo, but at least he'd be far, far away from her. Or better still, she'd be the one sucked out, and he'd have some peace for a while, at least until she came back to life again.

He almost got his wish.

♥♥♥♥♥

The airman looked over the displays for seemed the thousandth time today. And for the thousandth time, everything checked out normally. This must have been the most boring job on the Planet. This ship was almost fully automated, every last device running like clockwork, leaving precious little for a flight engineer like him to do.

There were three more hours before the next shift. If only he could have a little excitement to break the monotony of this journey!

The doors to the engine room clanged open. No one came in, however.

Well, it seemed as if not everything was plain sailing today after all.

"What's wrong with that stupid door?"

"I'll try to fix it," his partner volunteered, leaving his seat. The airman yawned, training his tired eyes on the screen once again.

He heard a dull thud. Turning around, he found his colleague lying in a crumpled heap, a large, smoking hole in his chest.

"What the?"

A dark shadow flitted past, a phantom hidden at the edge of his vision. He looked left and right, up and down. He was still alone in the engine room. Yet he felt the hairs on his neck rise.

The WRO soldier drew his sidearm, but found no one to point it at. The shadow teased him in perverted fashion, dancing away when he turned to confront it.

"This ain't funny! Show yourself! I'm not afraid of – mph!"

A hand clamped over his mouth, and he felt the searing kiss of an energy blade slicing open his neck. He finally set eyes upon his killer, and when he did, he wished Doom would come a little more quickly for him.

A little girl stood over him, her eyes filled with orange fire.

♥♥♥♥♥

"Time for another smoke."

But Cid would never smoke that cigarette.

"#&Ω it!"

There was a loud thud, sudden enough to make him jump, as if an anvil had fallen right next to him. For a moment, he could not see anything. He could not hear anything, save the roar of air tearing into his ship. The wheel spun wildly, as the ship suddenly veered towards the left. His lighter clattered to the floor.

"Great, an explosive decompression!" he cursed.

"One of the exit doors has blown out!" Van cried.

"We're losing altitude, sir!" Sam trembled.

A siren wailed. "Warning: cabin pressure below recommended levels. Please begin emergency descent procedures immediately," Bitchin' Betty helpfully chimed in.

"Owww!!!" An oxygen mask fell from the ceiling, hitting him square in the forehead.

"Gimme manual control, now!" Cid shouted, putting on the offending mask. At the same time, he pulled a lever at his console, causing several leather restraints to appear. He quickly wound his arms around them, stepping into the stirrups. He would need all of these, if he wasn't to be tossed around like a doll.

"Hold onto your panties, gals! I'll teach you to ride this rollercoaster!" He pulled back on the wheel. The clouds now shot past him, except they were going in the wrong direction. Stacks of papers quickly pasted themselves on the windshield, the chairs and coffee mugs joining them with several sickening crunches and cracks.

"We've lost power to Engine No. 1, Captain!" Kim screamed, her knuckles white around her emergency handle.

"She'll hold together!" Cid reassured his crew, "Hear me baby, hold together!" He'd always seen handsome, swashbuckling airship pilots say the same thing in the movies, and they'd always come out fine and dandy.

"Antigravity systems failing! We can't control her sink rate!"

Just as he thought the wheel would break off in his hands, the _Highwind _finally responded to his touch, coming out of the near – suicidal dive. A quick look at the gauges showed that they had fallen more than twenty thousand feet in just a few minutes. He sighed, removing the mask. At this height, they wouldn't have to worry about passing out from lack of air, or being sucked out of the airship, for that matter.

"Everybody! There's been an accident! We're gonna make an emergency landing at Junon, so stay where you are, and don't wander off, or you'll wish you had wings like me!"

Cid took his finger off the intercom switch. "Get off your bum and make sure everyone's in one piece!" he told the door guard, clucking his tongue at the rapidly spreading stain on the man's pants.

"Now where the !& is my lighter?" he asked, finding nothing to light up his cigarette with.

♥♥♥♥♥

It was as if a bomb had exploded right in front of them. The exit door shot away, revealing the deadly black beauty of a moonless sky.

Aerith found herself in the air, hurtling towards the doorway. Her arms flailed around, trying to find something to hold onto. Luckily, her hand closed around a metal pole, bent out of shape when the door blew out.

A dark shape flashed past her.

"Sephiroth!!"

She could see the expression of shock and surprise on his face, the lack of resistance he offered to the devouring wind. She reached out for him, but her hand seemed to take forever to find his, as the warrior drifted away from her. Then, she found herself holding his hand!

"Don't let go of me!"

The wind raked her with renewed fury, its cruel, transparent claws tearing him away from her. This was not the welcome, refreshing breeze the Planet sent to speed ships on their way and to help farmers mill their grain. It was nothing like that at all!

She could hear it singing to her and Sephiroth, to everyone else on the Planet, every note deafening her, every word filling her soul with fear, a horrific form of anti – music that drained the life from everyone who heard it, that corrupted everything exposed to it.

_Veni, mi fili. Veni, mi fili…_

_Hic veni, da mihi mortum iterum…_

_Veni, mi fili. Veni, mi fili…_

_Hic veni, da mihi…_

_Noli manere in memoria…_

_Saevam iram et dolorem…_

_Ferum terrible fatum…_

_Ille iterum veniet! _

Evil was returning.

But she had no time to worry about this right now. His glove was loosening, becoming limp in her hand, his fingers slipping through hers. She was going to lose him!

_Give me strength! _Aerith cried. And the spirits of the Lifestream answered her desperate plea.

Tendrils of green energy began wrapping around his arm, joining his hand to hers in a bond that no man could break. The two of them began to glow as a cocoon of sacred energy covered them, protecting them from the hurting wind, blocking out its deadly music, keeping away its chill.

Denied its prize, the winds of hate fled, roaring with primal fury. The evening sky reappeared, brightening up the passage. Letting go of the girl's hand, the SOLDIER leapt effortlessly through the doorway, re – entering the airship.

Aerith decided to press the advantage. This time, she had saved him. Now, he couldn't say that she was evil and all out to destroy him. Now, he would have to acknowledge that she was here to help him with his problems, to keep him safe from his inner demons. Unfortunately, he wasn't as game as Cloud. Asking for a date now would probably make him flip out. She'd have to lead him along slowly and carefully. She'd start small, so that she wouldn't scare him… too much!

The Ancient leaned forward, tapping his shoulder. "Well, Sephiroth, it seems as if I've saved your life. You're now in my debt. Why don't you give me something in return for my services?"

She received an index finger in her face for her troubles. "I will not submit to you, girl! Why do you keep asking me this? Do you think so low of me, that I am only a lap dancer with a metal bikini and a chain?"

"Come on, I'm not asking for very much, you know. I just want you to be my friend."

Sephiroth just stared blankly at her. She saw his lips move a little. For some reason, she could tell what he was saying under his breath.

_My friend…_

Poor Sephiroth! He had gone through his thirty years of life alone, without having a single friend. Like a child trying hard to learn a new word his mother taught him, he was mouthing the words, unable to put a meaning to them. Now that someone was offering to be his friend, he had absolutely no idea what to do!

"Friends don't harm each other, they care for each other. If your friend is happy, you'll share her joy, and you'll be happy too, and if she's sad, you'll help her get over her sorrow. When a friend needs help, you help her out, knowing that she'll be there to lend you a hand when you need it," she quickly explained.

"I'm willing to be your friend, Sephiroth. How about you? Will you be my friend?" She stretched out her hand.

"..."

She folded her arms, tapping her foot on the deck. "I'm waiting, Sephiroth."

The general started looking at the ground, avoiding contact with her eyes. His mouth remained slightly agape. He swallowed a lump. She could have sworn that she saw a drop of sweat trickle down his brow.

His hand remained where it was. He began to walk very, very quickly back the way he came.

The Cetra girl giggled uncontrollably. He had looked so cute when he was trying to make up his mind! There was still hope for her… a lot of it, in fact. That was good. She had come pretty close to getting him she wanted him to go. He would be hers soon enough!

♥♥♥♥♥

"Sir, there's an unidentified airship coming at us from behind at 200 mph!"

Cid peered down at his monitor. A large, bulbous helicopter filled the screen. Painted in brown camouflage colours, it was bristling with missile launchers, miniguns and rocket pods. He didn't know what this attack helicopter was, or who it belonged to, but he was willing to bet his airship that it had not come to say hello to them.

It was a pity the helicopter had caught them at this time; he could just have taken the _Highwind _into a climb, as no chopper could fly as high as an airship. He could not fight back either; the _Highwind _was unarmed, being an exploration vessel, rather than a warship.

Cid groaned as the ship's computer suddenly gave off a series of slow, steady beeps. He'd heard that terrible sound all too often in the past, and he had wished he would never have to hear it again. He found himself traveling back in time to the middle of the war. He was at the helm of a battered, burning airship, outmanned, outgunned, facing the insurmountable task of defending his lone airship against a sky full of swifter and deadlier Wutaian fighters. Every beep made his ears ring, a shrill reminder that explosive death was dogging his every step.

The chopper had switched on its radar, locking on to the _Highwind, _preparing to fire a missile at them. Cid twisted and turned the wheel, jinking here and there, trying hard to throw off the enemy's aim. But the airship was too close, and the helicopter pilots only had to make a few minor adjustments to keep the ship within their sights.

"Warning: incoming enemy missile!" Bitchin' Betty announced in a somewhat casual tone.

"Ah, #β!"

"We're doomed!" Sam screamed hysterically.

"I'm too young to die!" Kim wailed.

"Mother…" Van wept.

"Oh, shut your &? pieholes! They ain't gonna get us so easy!" Cid insisted. The beeps became faster and more insistent. The missiles were coming closer and closer to the _Highwind. _

With one engine out, and his flight controls damaged, there was no way he could outrun or outfly those missiles. But he could certainly let the enemy do the dirty work for him.

"Put everything you have in Engine No. 2! Right now!" Amazingly enough, the bridge crew showed no hesitation in carrying out his orders. With all his might, he spun the wheel hard to starboard, pushing the throttle fully forward, heading straight towards the chopper.

It only took seconds for him to pull alongside the enemy ship. Just in time, too – the warning beeps had become one solid tone; the missiles were practically inches behind him!

The _Highwind_ trembled as the missiles blew up all around her in large plumes of orange flame, aborted at the last second by the Dragonfly's pilots. Spider veins grew on the windshield, pipes bled here and there, rivets rocketed around the room, but the ship held together, just as Cid had prayed. They were safe… for a very brief moment.

"We're alive!" the three girls cried in celebration.

But Cid wasn't ready to take the champagne out from cold storage. The helicopter had disappeared! He turned the ship around, nosing up and down, trying to see where the chopper had gone. The cameras mounted around the exterior of his ship didn't pick up the Dragonfly either. The radar screen at Sam's console indicated that the helicopter was still around – in fact, it was in exactly the same spot as the _Highwind._

"The hell's going on?"

Cid suddenly thought of something.

"Kim, look through the security cameras. See anything?"

The airman punched the buttons on her monitor, looking through each camera in turn. "Everything's OK, sir…" She suddenly gasped. "Sir, we're being boarded!"

Cid was at her side in a second. The Dragonfly had actually managed to land on the ventral gondola of his ship! Trooper after blue – armoured trooper climbed out of the vehicle, rushing off screen. It seemed as if the chopper contained a limitless number of passengers. What skill… and what nerve! The sheer audacity of it all!

"#$ them! No one comes aboard this ship without my signed permission!" He rushed back to the wheel, bringing the _Highwind _into a steep dive, dislodging the helicopter from its perch. The last few men who had debarked fell overboard; it would be a long drop for them, with no rope to support them. However, the damage had already been done.

"Security alert, Van!"

A series of shrill whistles, the modern – day, electronic version of the boatswain's pipe, screamed over the speakers. _All hands repel boarders! _

Cid walked to the back wall of the command deck, adorned with a picture of another nearly naked woman, painstakingly painted by his own hand. He pulled a tiny little ring, designed to blend in with the titillating bikini top of the painted lady, and the wall slid back, revealing a little closet with some goodies he'd kept for emergencies such as these.

He took a Griffon out of the weapons cabinet, slapping in a magazine, cocking the handle.

"You know how to use this puppy?" There was no response from his subordinates. The captain began to wonder exactly how many corners the WRO had cut from their training programme.

"Well, start learning!" He tossed the submachine gun to Sam, who barely managed to keep it from hitting the deck and showering everyone with lead, "Now's your chance to be a real butch, girl!"

He gave out the remaining weapons to the bemused bridge crew, leaving the Venus Gospel for himself. He would have none of those loud and clumsy boomsticks.

Cid leaned against the wheel and waited. There was simply no point playing hide and seek with those guys. He'd let them come to him. If they wanted his ship, they'd get it – over his dead body, of course.

If only he could find that $ψ& lighter! He'd gone for eight minutes without a smoke already!

♥♥♥♥♥

"In Weiss' name!"

Those detested shackles! Would he be bound forever by the chains of his memories?

Sephiroth slid right into the middle of the phalanx of soldiers, leaving trails of burnt black rubber in his wake. The Masamune hissed, slicing the trooper in front of him in half, the scabbard tearing through the man beside him, pinning him to the wall. The next two unfortunates barely had any time to scream as their weapons and their hands clattered weakly onto the deck, but they had enough time to moan as the sword's magic quickly bled them to death. Another two men found themselves literally too close for comfort as the incredibly long blade skewered both of them.

He had killed an entire squad of DG troopers in less than three seconds. Only the squad leader was left. He did not retreat, but activated his energy shield, coolly raising his gun to eye level, squeezing out round after round at the oncoming terror.

Sephiroth did not care for such heroics. Nor did the Masamune. The intelligent weapon paid no heed to the wall of force keeping it out. It merely invited itself into the bosom of its latest victim.

He flicked the blood off his blade. Those minnows were hardly a challenge. Of course they knew that, when they sent those tin soldiers after him. They were merely playing with him. As his mind played tricks with him. As another side of his story mocked his current existence.

A sudden burst of heat and light and sound sent him reeling, as the wall buckled and split open before him. The bulbous visage of the Dragonfly filled up the rough-hewn opening. They had sent a toy copter after him.

The SOLDIER took his time, letting the pilots train the nose – mounted cannon on him. Even so, the incendiary bullets failed to find living flesh, having to settle with just going up in large puffs of white smoke and flaming debris.

By then, he was already on top of things. It took just one cut to free the main rotor from its housing. The blades whirled away in all directions. The _Highwind _shook as the deadly splinter of metal embedded itself in her side, bleeding thick, oily fluid. Sephiroth leapt back to safety as the attack helicopter careened away uncontrollably, plunging quickly out of sight.

What foolish games they liked to play with him!

He stepped away from the hole in the hull, wondering what else was in store from those who had called out to him. He didn't have to wait too long, as he came face to face with something he didn't expect to see for a pretty long time.

The Dragonfly still wanted to dance with him!

Sephiroth scowled. He had to concede that he'd underestimated those DG troopers. By just a little bit, though. This helicopter had been built to last. Even without its rotor, it was still capable of flight, being equipped with an antigravity device, more commonly seen in large airships such as the _Highwind. _

A salvo of heavy rockets screamed towards him, a mass of deadly gossamer tentacles about to smother him. The general grimaced, preparing to dodge and roll, his sword and scabbard ready to block the deadly volley. Whatever he did now, he would certainly be caught in the blasting zone. Those missiles were just too close him, and there wasn't much room for him to run. But being knocked off his feet and having his hair singed a little wasn't as bad as being strapped down on Hojo's operating table for ten seconds. It was time for him to suffer a little pain.

The rockets never hit him. They tumbled around, like dice in a giant cup, caught in a swirling vortex of untamed air, an unseen force pushing them away from him, returning them to their sender. It was the Dragonfly that ended up being smothered in flames instead.

The Tornado spell started battering the helicopter, causing it to start rocking around like a baby in a wind – swept bough. Its cannons blazed uselessly, hitting everything except their intended target.

Sephiroth was quick to take advantage of this momentary weakness. He attached his scabbard to the handle of his sword, turning the Masamune into a sixteen – foot lance. He would make sure that there would be no second wind for his enemy. The blade began to pulsate with black energy – the power of terra corrupt.

"Tyrant Spear!"

He hurled the outsized lance at the Dragonfly. It simply passed through the aircraft, as if it did not exist at all, traveling for more than a mile before it disappeared in a flash of darkness. The helicopter stayed where it was, as if it had been immobilized by the passage of the Masamune through its vitals. Sephiroth stayed equally still, watching and waiting for his handiwork to bear fruit.

The Dragonfly suddenly groaned, the airframe giving way along the fault lines the Masamune had created, holding together no longer. The chopper fell apart in two halves, giving him a nice cutaway view of the inner workings of the aircraft. He saw the pilots tumble out of the gunship, and noted with grim satisfaction that they, like most Shinra pilots, had not been equipped with parachutes. A few thousand feet, and several muffled booms later, he was absolutely sure that the Dragonfly would not return to annoy him again.

He turned to his unexpected helper. "Why trouble yourself with keeping up this little charade? I don't need your help, and you know that. Did you honestly think that this little gesture on your part will make me fall down and worship you all of a sudden?"

"You see, Sephiroth, friends always help each other. You could get by on your own, but life will be so much easier if someone's around to lend you a hand. I'm willing to be your friend, Sephiroth. Why don't you be my friend?"

Her words were poison, worming undetected through the night, carried aloft in the storm on her light, sweet voice, insidiously working their way into his bed of sable sadness, sickening him softly till his black rose withered and died.

He would resist it with every fibre of his being! … Or would he? He knew, as any sensible person would, that there was something right in what she had said, in this reasoned appeal to emotion. He'd never had any friends. But he'd seen Cloud and Zack together, and witnessed how no adversity could break the bond between them, how they had trusted each other with their lives, one ultimately giving his own so that the other would have a future. Together, their lives had been so much richer.

And within himself, he remembered the distant past. A few people had gone out of their way, giving him aid, allowing him to cling on to the slippery rungs of survival just a little more firmly. But Cloud was Cloud, and Zack was Zack! They were different people. How could he compare himself with them? It was like comparing a seal to a sea lion! The great Safer Sephiroth could do everything on his own. He never needed any friends. And he wouldn't need any now!

"I'll consider it!" Why was he even saying this? He was giving her an inch, and before he knew it, she'd be asking him for a mile.

Mercifully, the Cetra decided to let him off at this point, gifting him with a sly little wink before vanishing to whatever hole in the wall she had come out of. He had this sinking feeling that she was slowly twisting him around her finger. Worse still, a tiny but vocal part of him actually seemed to _like _it.

Sephiroth sighed. He had craved power, and he had gotten it. All along, he had thought that by being master of people's lives, he would be master over his own. But the more he squeezed, the more those he sought to control slipped through his fingers. It was futile for him to go back to the old ways. They would simply end up mastering him instead, no matter how much he believed in the absolute nature of his own powers. What was he to do, then? Was the girl right, then? Did he really need someone to help him become his own master, to control the forces that dictated his destiny, to aid him in the coming struggle against the enemies who were coming forth from his past? Did he really need "friends", then? How was he to "make" them? Where was he to "find" them? Were there even any "true" friends at all?

After all, the only allies were his enemies!

♥♥♥♥♥

"All right, pipe down little children, the big bad wolf's dead, he ain't gonna munch on yer chinny chin chin anymore."

A Deepground soldier lay sprawled in the doorway, his helmet still spinning around a little in a corner. An expression of shock was writ large on his bloodstained face. He did not know what had killed him, whether it had been the shock of having the flight deck doors slammed full in his face, or being unlucky enough to be hit by just one of a volley of untrained shots fired by desperate women.

However, his comrade, who had managed to get a few feet in front of him, didn't even know who or what did him in. An angry purple bruise had blossomed on the back of his unprotected neck, courtesy of a large spanner the Captain always carried around for special occasions like these. The pilot didn't even have to use his lance this time.

The screams finally died down. Cid took advantage of this moment of peace to look out of the viewports, watching the flaming remnants of the Dragonfly slowly plummeting away. He wasn't sure who had disposed of that chopper, but he sure was grateful that he didn't have to mess with it anymore.

Cloud appeared in the doorway, ducking just a little to avoid a hastily fired burst of bullets.

"Hold yer fire, little ladies! You don't wanna blast poor Prince Charming off his feet, right?" Cid chided them, "So, you got rid of all the rats on our ship?"

"Yeah, and if you read the fine print of my service contract, it's 50 extra for calling in the exterminators after five on a weekday." Cloud was merely joking, of course, but the truth was that these terms were already very generous for a security consultant these days. Things had gone crazy for a while after the fall of the tyrannical Shinra empire, and it was only now that the WRO was managing to bring things back to something resembling a state of normalcy.

"Well, don't look at me, charge it to the Commissioner's card, he's the bottomless pit, remember?" Cid retorted. One thing the parliamentary select committees had never been able to find out was how Reeve got all the money to fund all of his various ventures. The money just appeared every month at WRO headquarters, in unmarked suitcases, in non – sequential bills. When quizzed by the Shadow Commissioner, Reeve had simply replied that he didn't know who was behind it; perhaps it was just someone who wanted to give a little back to the Planet. No one doubted that Reeve had given an honest answer, but his explanation wasn't sufficient to answer the question of the identity of that mysterious donor.

"Anyway, I hope you brought more than an overnight bag, for we ain't gonna reach Nibelheim tonight. This bird's had enough fun for now, she'll need to spend some time in the drydock if we don't want her to get eaten up by the next chopper that comes by."

He turned to the still – shaking bridge officers. "Sam, set a course for Junon. If anyone asks for a landing permit, tell him that I'll squeeze his $& so hard he'd wish he was born without them!"

The _Highwind _suddenly lurched forward, causing the pilot to lose his footing. Luckily, he was still holding onto one of the leather straps on his console. Cloud was not so lucky, cracking his head against the Captain's chair. No sooner had they regained their balance, did the airship suddenly start climbing. The mercenary tumbled away, the doors slamming shut behind him.

"#!+& it!" The ship kept nosing up and down, refusing to respond to the wheel despite his best efforts.

"Fluid pressure for hydraulic lines 1, 2 and 3 at zero! All control surfaces have failed!"

"What a great day to fly, huh?" Well, whoever had brought the Dragonfly down had done his work a little too well. $&# it. Some stupid little piece of flying debris must have hit the _Highwind _in one of the worst possible places,severing all the control lines in the ship. He'd seen enough airships going down in battle to know what would happen next. Out of control, the airship would keep bobbing up and down like a cork, losing precious altitude each time. This vicious cycle would continue until she kissed the ground in violent fashion, dooming herself and all her passengers.

"What about line 4? There must be some juice in that damned pipe, right?"

But Kim shook her head. $&# it again. The _Highwind Jr, _which had saved their lives in their escape from the Northern Crater, couldn't help them this time, her control systems also damaged beyond recovery by that same piece of rogue shrapnel. Their getaway ride was just as good as a paper aeroplane.

"One last thing you need to learn, gals. You gotta know when you've gotta go! Van, hightail it to the loading bay. Get those 'chutes ready, 'cos we'll soon be skydiving!"

Cid began to work the throttle, increasing speed one moment, then cutting back the next, causing the ship to bounce up and down a little less wildly. But even this little trick would simply delay the inevitable. They'd have to bale out pretty soon, or not at all.

Van rushed back in, holding a parachute pack. "No go, sir! Someone's cut up all the parachutes!" Festoons of silk ribbons spilled to the floor as the pack fell from her numbed hands.

Cid sighed. What a comedy of errors this was. He watched the needles on his altimeter turn the wrong way, spinning faster and faster, closer and closer towards oblivion. "Tough luck. That's Sod's Law for you."

The airman pulled an emergency toggle, dumping the ship's fuel stores, draining the Mako batteries. Well, he'd have to go down with his ship. But to think of it, he wouldn't have it any other way. At least he'd die at the wheel, rather than in a hospital bed from lung cancer or chronic obstructive pulmonary disease or something.

"Warning: terrain features encountered. Please pull up immediately." With a snap and a crackle, Bitchin' Betty ceased her endless complaints, silenced forever by a well – placed spanner. He didn't need her to announce the fact of his impending demise.

Cid was soon treated to the sight of a giant checkerboard made of neatly – tilled plots of farmland, golden with grains which were yet to be harvested. At least they weren't going to crash into a mountain or a jungle, or someplace too remote. However, despite his tricks with the throttle, they were moving far too quickly, and descending far too rapidly to land safely.

He pressed the intercom switch. "Ladies and gentleman, this is your captain speaking, most probably for the last time. We're going in for a hard landing. Tighten your seatbelts and remember to lean forward and place your hands on the seat in front of you. Thank you for traveling with Cidwind, and I hope you haven't had too unpleasant a flight."

It was out of his hands now. Hopefully, Lady Luck wouldn't fail him this time either.

The bridge officers were huddled together in a corner, holding each other close, scared beyond tears, petrified beyond words. Cid felt sorry for them. He'd been around long enough to have a little fun, but they were far too young to die, but war, like his brother, cared not for age. But at least they could derive a little solace from each other's presence. Death was so much harder to face alone.

_Take care of yourself, Shera. Hope you'll find a less #$!! – up bloke than me…_

The old pilot stood up, breathing deeply. Having found his lighter a minute ago, he had just enough time for one last cigarette. He rested his hands on the wheel, chin up, looking straight ahead. Cid Highwind CXVII, ace pilot, master and commander, sailor amongst the stars, watched and waited as the Planet rushed forward to receive him in her timeless embrace.

"Holy # !$& –––– "

_From the Author's Mouth_

_Hi everyone! I just can't believe that someone's _still _reading my story! Thanks for all your reviews, not giving up on me ). I'm currently stuck in your typical high-stress, no-life office job, so I hope I can keep this up! _

_I'm trying to include characters and story elements from Advent Children and Dirge of Cerberus in my story, makes this a lot more interesting. But things won't unfold in the same way as it happened in the Compilation of FFVII. Some people who survived might die, others who officially died might yet get a reprieve. Unfortunately, I like to make my plans as I go along, unlike more accomplished authors like JK Rowling, so I haven't thought things through yet. And as with the last chapter, I'm hoping to put in a few references to some of the other games Square made, like the Mana or Chocobo series, which are works of art in their own right. And maybe even another Final Fantasy…_

_One tiny challenge I encountered was trying to describe the various things that were happening to the _Highwind _in something remotely intelligible, without boring everyone to tears with meaningless technobabble. I admit I'm no pilot myself – I just took everything from Wikipedia. The Wikimedia Foundation should get a Nobel prize or something, I've learned a lot of things I wouldn't even have heard of, just by surfing that website!_

_Remember the "Terrible Trio", collectively known as Sammie, Kim and Vanessa? And Henri (or Bruno), their implacable pipe-smoking captain? As you can see, I'm trying to take fan service as far as possible without jumping the shark! I loved the Robotech books written by Jack McKinney. The books really helped to flesh out what happened in the cartoons. But the Sentinels series just wasn't worth the paper they were printed on, but maybe because I didn't really like the weird ideas Harmony Gold was coming up with, like skintight spandex uniforms. _

_Well… I guess that's all I can think of for now… hopefully, I can get this fic done, within my lifetime ). Or maybe it'll be a true epic that spans generations, a masterpiece taking many hundreds of years to complete… maybe it won't be done even by the time Red XIII comes around and starts roaring at what's left of Midgar )._


	19. Chapter 19: Noli Manere in Memoria

_CHAPTER NINETEEN: NOLI MANERE IN MEMORIA_

Cloud felt the wind rake his face, stirring up the black dust from the rotting land. In front of him, a column of white smoke snaked upwards, a cobra in the air gazing at him. He remembered all too well the cold, damp walls, the cramped corridors, the fetid atmosphere of that horrible place.

He let out a long sigh. The past kept calling him to make repeat visits to places he never wanted to come back to. It called to Tifa too… and Sephiroth. All they needed was Zack, his dear friend, now in the Radiant Garden, to complete this strange reunion.

"Come on!"

He put down his phone, and watched his companions appear one by one, emerging from the last of the winding paths leading to the Nibel Reactor.

A day and a half had passed since the attack which had laid the _Highwind _low. Amazingly enough, everyone abroad had survived the crash, suffering only minor injuries. Though the same couldn't be said of the airship. Thanks to some clever press statements given by Reeve, the public believed that they were enjoying an extended stay in a hospital in Junon. Cid quickly commandeered another airship, the _Charlotte__, _and this time, they reached Nibelheim unmolested.

Not wishing to alert their enemies, AVALANCHE had made the harrowing hike up Mt. Nibel on foot, with Tifa to guide them once again. Cid remained behind with the _Charlotte_, ready to provide support if needed.

With some help from Bigieu, Vincent's secretary, they had found the location of Vincent's last message. But there was nothing to be seen; no dead bodies, no debris, no sign of a struggle at all. It was as if they had all been hallucinating. All that was left now was to visit the reactor itself; hopefully, Vincent would be somewhere inside.

The Nibel Reactor had been Hojo's house of horrors away from home. And it was eminently suited for the madman, a haphazard collection of pipes and metal plates, looking like some large, cancerous growth rather than a power station.

The main doors were left wide open. For a moment the mercenary wanted to laugh. It was as if someone had gotten the idea to air the place, to let the stink of evil come out of it. More likely, however, someone was expecting them, like the spider opening its parlour to the fly.

The members of his team entered the reactor in single file; the entrance would fit no more. Last to enter was the man he had once looked up to, the man whom he once considered a hero. Cloud stole a look at Sephiroth, wondering what were his thoughts and speculations at returning to the place where all the horrors had started, the core of the crisis. But he, the author of this evil, refused to give anything away, his face as unreadable as ever.

"Urkkk…. I think I'm getting sick," Yuffie complained.

"Shh." Tifa gingerly stepped ahead, switching on her torch. The beam could not go very far in the strange mist that blanketed the corridor. Apart from their footfalls, muted by the moss – covered floor, they could hear no other sound, not even the drip of water from a leaking pipe, or the chatter of a wild rat. Silence impressed itself upon their ears. The silence of the sepulchre.

They entered the catchment chamber, the place where raw Mako was siphoned up from holes drilled into the Planet's crust. A long catwalk ran across the room, leading to Hojo's private playpen. And beyond that…

"Watch your step," Tifa whispered, "The bridge is starting to fall apart." Her eyes met Sephiroth's briefly. He looked as if he'd never visited this place before. Had this man any feelings?

Aerith stopped at the edge of the catwalk, looking at the Lifestream, which lay a thousand feet below.

"The Lifestream's supposed to be calm, a place of rest for those who've returned to the Planet. Now it's angry and disturbed, like boiling water… as if someone's hurt it."

"It's never behaved like that, even when a Mako reactor's at full power," Red noted, squinting at the seething, flickering waters, "What does this mean?"

"I wish I knew, Red." The girl got up, dusting off her dress, "But for now, we must find Vincent. Perhaps he'll tell us more."

The door to the lab, like the front gates, was also left open. Cloud stepped in, wiping perspiration from his brow. He plucked at his shirt, peeling it away from his chest, and noticed that the Nibel Wolf brooch he wore was starting to rust.

The largest room in the reactor was in exactly the same state as they'd left it a year ago. Hundreds of isolation pods ringed a man-made terrace, leading up to the Jenova Chamber, the wretched creatures within guarding the Beast beyond.

"Search each of these pods," Cloud ordered, "Vincent may be inside one of them." He took out his own torch, and started peering inside each of the stasis chambers in turn. He frowned. They were all empty. Somebody had decided to give Hojo's pets a little fun in the sun.

His friends had come to a similar conclusion. Their hands reached for their weapons.

"I've found him! Come here!" Yuffie cried. The mercenary sprinted towards her, skittering to a stop in front of her pod. He peered through the glass window, and saw his friend floating helplessly in front of him.

"Vincent!"

He mashed the release button, but the pod refused to relinquish its inhabitant. But it could not resist a few good hits from the Ultima Weapon. Vincent tumbled out in a shower of viscous fluid.

Cloud retched at once. It was as if he was back in the glass prisons which he and Zack were confined in during their four years of torture in the Shinra mansion. Immersed every day in a bitter – sour, toxic soup laced with Jenova cells, his mind, body and soul were slowly mutated by Hojo's dark experiments, until he became only an empty shell filled with the evil of Sephiroth. Only by entering the Lifestream and experiencing its divine power was he truly restored to the person he once was.

"Vincent!" The man was barely responding to him, muttering a few inarticulate words. Tifa took out a hip flask, giving him a sip of brandy, then a long draught.

"… much worse … Disciples of Jenova … unholy alliance…" The mayor slid back into unconsciousness.

"Gather everybody together. We've got to get him back to Nibelheim. Then we can…" Cloud thrust Vincent into Tifa's arms, rushing up the terraces, throwing his hands on the door to darkness, ramming his body against it.

"Sephiroth! Sephiroth! Sephiroth!!"

He would not have time to worry about the silver – haired man, as the silence was suddenly shattered by the braying of a hundred wild creatures as they appeared out from the mists, swarming the crowded corridors, falling down from the ceiling.

The Mako monsters were upon them!

XXXXX

Sephiroth stood in the inner sanctum, staring down the long hallway. At its end was the stasis chamber where Jenova's remains had once slept. Six years ago, he had entered this room, fresh from the massacre of an entire town. Long had he dreamed of exterminating humanity, those lesser lifeforms who had sought time and again to deny his existence, but Jenova had shown him how to make that dream a reality, the path to ultimate power.

But where had all the power he had gained taken him? Cloud, a lowly foot soldier, a human being, had gained some unknown strength, prevailing over him at the very last moment. Aerith, whom he had considered an imposter, pretending to belong to the master race, had ruined his plans with a single prayer. In the end, he was a nobody. He was still an incomplete being.

Why was he still here, then? He was supposed to "atone" for his sins. He was supposed to fulfill his true destiny, a purpose known only to the Planet. What did that mean? All he knew was that he was under someone's control again, just like a puppet. All his life he had tried to shake off his strings, but the more he struggled, the more he was tied down.

Life held little meaning to Sephiroth; death had no value to him.

"You've come, Sephiroth. Broken, but still in one piece."

Three men stood in the distance. All of them were silver – haired, just like him. All of them were dressed in black cloaks, just like him. All of their faces were twisted into a sadistic grin, just like him.

The leader stepped forward, tossing his shoulder – length hair behind his back. "I believe you've met us before. But let's introduce ourselves again. I am Kadaj. This is Loz. And he is Yazoo."

"So that's what you call yourselves now?"

"We were once your puppets, empty shells to do your bidding. But we've changed a little bit, ever since your timely demise. We were lost, just like you. We had no hope, no reason to live. But Mother came to us with words of wisdom. She gave us the answer."

In unison, the threesome reached for a silver chain they wore on their necks, holding it up to the light. Hanging from each chain was a small globe of phosphorescent green fluid.

"The biggest fools commit the mistakes others make."

"Oh, no, no, no. It was a brilliant plan, but you gave up on it. Your death was just an unfortunate setback. You could've just used us to come back to this world. But you failed to take this chance. And now we have the chance to surpass you… once we kill you, that is."

The SOLDIER drew his sword. "Go ahead."

Kadaj laughed, waving his double – bladed katana, throwing his head back. "Wait for it!"

Sephiroth would not wait. He sprang forward, gliding through the air, the Masamune drawn back to strike. These fragments of his past life had finally manifested themselves in the material plane, and now he could defeat them in combat.

But these fragments eluded him still, vanishing below the surface of the cauldron. A hundred pairs of claws dragged him down in mid – flight. He came eye to eye with a grey – skinned humanoid with a shriveled, horse – shaped face, with spines for hair. This was the last he saw of it, as he sliced the Mako monster in two. Stabbing and swinging left and right, he disposed of the creatures clinging to his arms and legs. But the terrible trio had already vanished by then.

"We won't just remain in your memories."

XXXXX

Cloud took another step forward, winning a few inches of progress as he cut down one more of the ashen – faced terrors, pausing to wipe away the gooey, mud – like blood that landed on his face.

They trudged their way towards the exit, pushing back the tide of Mako monsters in front of them, holding back the ones snapping at their heels.

"Let's see what you have!" Yuffie threw her Conformer at one unlucky victim, activating her Mug command materia. The creature fell, and the large shuriken returned to her hands. Unfortunately, the humanoid carried nothing of value on it.

"You don't want to stay here, dear." Tifa grabbed Yuffie by the collar, dragging her in front, kicking away the spindly creature that had taken the ninja's place.

"Well, it was the thought that counted…"

Aerith raised her staff, the Tornado spell tossing the monsters back down the corridor, dumping them in an unceremonious heap. Cloud followed up with a running jump, dispatching them all with one stroke.

Mercifully, the main doors were still open. But their joy at reaching the exit was short – lived, as more of the screeching, honking horrors came up from the mountain path, surrounding them completely.

"Goodness, how many of them are there?" Tifa asked, grabbing one of the monsters by both arms, flinging it into a group charging towards her. "Go mess with someone else, ugly boys!"

"Where is the air support?" Cloud yelled into his phone.

"Look above you, kid!" The _Charlotte_ had come at just the right time. The Mako creatures whined and squealed in pain as they were riddled with bullets. The airship's main gun opened up, blowing whole groups of them away. Soon enough, the monsters turned and fled, leaving them alone once again in the wasteland.

Two airmen climbed down the rope ladder, carrying a stretcher with them. Cloud strapped Vincent in it, and watched them haul him upwards. He turned, intent on returning to the reactor.

"Stay with Vincent. I'll go back in," Aerith offered. "Relax, he's not responsible for this," she insisted.

Aerith found the general walking slowly out from the Jenova chamber, covered from head to toe with the thick, vile ichor of the Mako monsters. She ran up to him, relieved that he had escaped unhurt. She touched his arms, and at once she saw the memories which had not yet passed beyond the thick walls blocking off his soul.

Sephiroth was living out his past in the present day. The stones he had thrown into the river in the distant past had built up downstream, coalescing together to form unrunnable rapids that were even now rocking his boat apart plank by plank. The three men he had met were but the first of the procession of people whom he had touched, for good or for ill, and now they would return to shape his own life.

He brushed away her hands, pointing towards the room of fate. "Why are you so eager to share what can't be shared? Do you really think you can understand what I went through, the reasons behind every single thing I've done? That you can somehow destroy the darkness in my heart, make everything all right again for me?"

The flower merchant rolled her eyes. This was the hardest sale she would ever have to make. She lowered her head a little, rubbing her chin.

"Yes, I do," she replied firmly. She stood on the tips of her toes, taking his hands again, drawing him closer, her eyes shining deep into his soul, showing him what was waiting for him at the very end, if only he would begin the long climb towards the light.

"You want some peace of mind. You want to face your past, to be free of your memories, but you don't know how to. You won't find the answer within yourself, because it's something you can't do with your own strength alone. You need to have faith in those who want to help you. You need friends. You need me."

"………."

"………."

"………."

"… Fine. Try me."

He left the reactor, his memories of that dreadful place set aside, so engrossed was he with wondering what would happen, now that he had invited the girl into his private life.

Aerith would not stop smiling the whole day…

_Oh, how I hate work! It takes away my muse! It strips me of creativity, blocks my writing! So once I get any leave, I start getting back to this. Have to balance my time too, since I'm playing Crisis Core too. I have plans for the silver-haired men. It'll take more than a little fall of rain to kill them. Now I must work on the next chapter, before my leave ends. I've actually written material for future chapters, and they're very sweet, but I have to write something else first, to get to them! _

_I'm thinking of starting a blog and posting my story there too. It's a bit more flexible, and I'll have a few additional options available… I'll let you know, if I actually start venturing into the blogosphere… )_


End file.
